IB14  2 


T-dHBCT*' A-y-.-.-.^-^X'.:' — ■T'MHMWr  -iWV'W+KSej,  -^ 


-> 


THE  LIFT  GREW  DARK,  AND  THE  WIND  BLEW  LOUD, 
AND  GURLY  GREW  THE  SEA  (page  5) 


STORY-TELLING 
BALLADS 

SELECTED  AND  ARRANGED  FOR 
STORY-TELLING  AND  READING  ALOUD 

AND  FOR 
THE  BOYS'  AND  GIRLS'  OWN  READING 

BY 
FRANCES  JENKINS  OLCOTT 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

1920 


69024 


COPYRIGHT,   1920,   BY  FRANCES  JENKINS  OLCOTT 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


•:  ••• 


•  •  « •  •  ■ 


<••        ,»•        ••! 
•    •    •  -•••  *. 


CAMBRIOGB    .   MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .  S  .    A 


i* 


^i 


_) 


TO  MY  SISTER 

VIRGINIA  OLCOTT 


J 


THE  FOREWORD 

Here  are  77  story-telling  ballads  and  narrative 
poems,  that  will  make  the  heart  beat  faster  and 
the  pulse  bound,  of  any  boy  or  girl  from  twelve  to 
fifteen  years  of  age. 

They  offer  a  feast  of  good  things  —  romances, 
hero-tales,  Faerie  legends,  and  adventures  of 
Knights  and  lovely  Damsels.  They  sing  of  proud 
and  wicked  folk,  of  gentle  and  loyal  ones,  of 
Laidley  Worms,  Witches,  Mermaids  with  golden 
combs,  sad  maidens,  glad  ones  and  fearless  lovers, 
moss-troopers,  border-rievers,  and  Kings  in  dis- 
guise. All  their  doings  are  related  in  the  stirring, 
leaping,  joyous  —  or  at  times  martial  and  mourn- 
ful-ballad measure. 

The  ancient  ballads  are  here  presented  exactly 
as  when  in  days  of  old  they  were  sung  by  min- 
strels and  recited  by  gaffers  and  gammers.  No 
alterations  are  made  in  the  texts  of  the  ballad- 
collectors  and  collators,  except  the  changing  of  a 
few  objectionable  words.  Two  or  three  of  the  less 
well-kno'tvTi  ballads  are  done  into  modern  spelling. 
A  number,  not  hitherto  found  in  children's  col- 
lections, will  be  delightfully  new  to  young  people. 
Some  popular  ballads,  like  "King  John  and  the 
Abbot  of  Canterbury,"  and  "The  King  and  the 


viii  THE  FOREWORD 

Miller  of  Mansfield,"  are  omitted  because  they 
are  in  Story-Telling  Poems. 

A  goodly  number  of  famous  modern  ballads 
are  included;  and  at  the  end  of  the  volume  are  10 
short  narrative  poems  of  "Pilgrimage  and  Souls 
so  Strong." 

At  the  end  of  the  book  are  a  Glossary  and  In- 
dexes of  subjects,  authors,  titles,  and  first  lines. 

TEACHERS,  STORY-TELLERS,  AND  BALLADS 

Since  great  care  has  been  taken  to  choose  authori- 
tative texts  (see  Acknowledgments,  page  xv  and 
Suggestions  for  Teachers,  page  363),  the  teacher 
will  find  this  collection  helpful  when  instructing 
classes  in  early  English  literature  or  in  ballad 
structure  and  measure. 

The  Glossary  for  classroom  use  is  placed  at 
the  back  of  the  book,  not  in  footnotes,  because 
children  who  are  reading  for  enjoyment  easily 
learn  new  words  from  the  context. 

The  collection  may  be  used  for  story-hours;  or, 
as  older  boys  and  girls  prefer  being  read  aloud  to, 
in  it  may  be  found  an  abundance  of  material  for 
weekly  poetry  hours  and  for  memorizing. 

YOUTH  IN  THE  BALLADS 

Ballads  are  the  natural  heritage  of  every  boy 
and  girl.  Ballads  are  tuned  to  the  very  pulse  of 
Youth.    They  are  red-blooded:  joyous  with  the 


TIIE  FOREWORD  ix 

freshness  of  Springtime,  and  robust  with  the  early 
Summer  of  Life.  They  appeal  with  pecuHar  de- 
light to  growing  boys  and  girls,  satisfying,  as  do 
no  other  poems,  their  craving  for  emotional  ex- 
pression in  quick,  rhythmic  form. 

Ballads  not  only  feed  the  romantic  spirit  of 
young  people,  but  teach  them  much  homely  wis- 
dom. They  are  essentially  democratic  and  human. 
In  them  Kings  and  tinkers,  Knights  and  shep- 
herds, meet,  talk,  and  feast  together  like  com- 
rades. _ 

And  because  the  vigour  of  Youth  so  animates 
the  old  ballads,  young  folk  read  them  eagerly, 
learn  them  almost  without  effort,  and  recite  them 
with  gusto.  The  wild,  free  life  in  the  good  green- 
wood, the  chivalry,  mystery,  pathos,  heroic  deeds, 
and  thrilling  experiences  —  in  fact.  Life  itself 
running  the  whole  gamut  of  human  emotions 
—  enthrall  the  ever  eager,  questioning,  shifting 
moods  of  boys  and  girls. 

HOW  THE  BALLADS  GREW 

The  human  and  universal  in  the  ancient  ballads, 
their  eternal  youthful  appeal,  are  rooted  deepset 
in  the  daily  life  of  the  People.  Their  very  meter 
and  airs  are  natural  growths  like  the  sheath  of 
a  wildflower.  For  in  those  good  old  ballad-mak- 
ing days,  minstrels,  the  welcome  guests  of  rich 
and  poor,  wandered  from  castle  to  cot  and  inn. 


)^ 


X  THE  FOREWORD 

from  eyrie-like  retreats  of  Highland  chiefs  to 
fortified  border-towers  of  the  Lowland  or  "North 
Contraye."  And  as  the  minstrels  rested  their 
harps  or  bagpipes  on  the  earthen  floors  of  cot- 
tages, or  while  they  sat  feasting  with  nobles  in 
baronial  halls,  they  heard  peasants,  working-folk, 
servitors,  squires,  ladies,  and  returned  Crusad- 
ers, telling  of  their  adventures  on  land  and  sea, 
in  fights,  battles,  border-raids,  in  abductions  of 
lovely  maidens,  in  combats  with  Saracens  and 
with  Laidley  monsters,  in  meetings  with  Faerie 
Knights  and  Elfin  Queens  all  under  the  green- 
wood-shade. They  heard,  also,  tales  of  change- 
lings and  visits  to  Fairyland;  stories  of  Ghosts, 
Ghouls,  and  "Witches;  legends  of  the  sea;  and 
traditions  of  national  heroes. 

This  material,  so  varied,  so  freshly  spontaneous 
and  imaginative,  the  minstrels  shaped  into  bal- 
lads, setting  them  to  music  now  wild  and  weird, 
now  tragic  and  mournful,  now  sweet  and  debonair. 
So  they  played  and  sang  the  ballads  in  cottage, 
bower,  and  hall,  moulding  them  to  the  delight 
and  humours  of  their  hearers,  changing  them  to 
suit  time  and  place.  Thus  there  grew  up  many 
versions  of  a  single  ballad. 

The  old  folk,  too,  the  gaffers  and  gammers  by 
the  fireside,  learned  the  ballads  and  recited  or 
sung  them  to  the  children;  who  in  their  turn, 
when  they  became  old,  told  them  to  other  chil- 


THE  FOREWORD  xi 

dren.  Thus  the  old  songs  were  passed  along  by 
word  of  mouth  from  generation  to  generation, 
from  countryside  to  countryside,  and  even  from 
one  land  to  another. 

MAKING  A  COLLECTION  FOR  CHILDREN 

As  was  natural  in  those  coarse  old  times,  much 
that  was  unsuitable  for  children  was  woven  into 
the  ballads;  which  to-day  makes  it  a  difficult  task 
to  compile  a  representative  juvenile  collection. 
For,  as  Spenser  so  aptly  put  it  when  writing  of 
Irish  bards,  they  "seldom  use  to  choose  unto 
themselves  the  doings  of  good  men  for  the  argu- 
ments of  their  poems,  but  whomsoever  they  find 
to  be  .  .  .  most  bold  and  lawless  in  his  doings, 
most  dangerous  and  desperate  in  all  parts  of  dis- 
obedience and  rebellious  disposition,  him  they 
set  up  and  glorify  in  their  rhymes,  him  they  praise 
to  the  people,  and  to  young  men  make  an  example 
to  follow." 

But  Spenser's  criticism  of  the  Irish  bards  is 
far  too  violent  a  stricture  on  all  Scottish  and 
English  ballad  literature.  For  there  are  Scottish 
and  English  ones,  clean,  merry,  and  nobly  heroic; 
fine  and  wholesome  reading  for  our  boys  and 
girls. 

For  Sir  Walter  Scott's  romantic  tastes  and  his 
interest  in  Highland  and  Border  life  were  awak- 
ened and  fired,  when  he  was  a  boy,  by  reading 


xii  THE  FOREWORD 

ballads.  And  Sir  Philip  Sydney  wrote  in  his  De- 
fence of  Poetry,  ''Certainly,  I  must  confess  mine 
own  barbarousness;  I  never  heard  the  old  song  of 
Percy  and  Douglas,  that  I  found  not  my  heart 
moved  more  than  with  a  trumpet;  and  yet  it  is 
sung  but  by  some  blind  crowder,  with  no  rougher 
voice  than  rude  style  ...  In  Hungary  I  have  seen 
it  the  manner  at  all  feasts,  and  all  other  such-like 
meetings,  to  have  songs  of  their  ancestors'  valour, 
which  that  right  soldier-like  nation  think  one  of 
the  chiefest  kindlers  of  brave  courage." 

But  in  making  a  collection  of  ballads  for  mod- 
ern boys  and  girls,  it  is  not  enough  to  choose 
those  that  will  arouse  only  the  higher  emotions. 
The  interests  of  young  people  have  to  be  con- 
sulted; while  nothing  in  extremely  difficult  Scot- 
tish dialect  may  be  included,  nor  in  very  old 
English. 

Then  there  are  many  versions  of  individual 
ballads  to  choose  from.  Of  "Hynd  Horn"  there 
are  eight  or  more;  of  "Young  Beichan  and 
Susie  Pye,"  fourteen  or  more;  and  of  other  bal- 
lads many  versions.  Next,  authoritative  texts 
must  be  found,  for  some  transcribers  have  made 
mistakes  or  have  altered  the  originals.  So  it  may 
be  seen  what  a  painstaking  task  it  is  to  compile  a 
collection  of  ballads  for  educational  purposes  as 
well  as  for  the  boys'  and  girls'  own  reading. 

As  for  this  volume,  it  covers  so  wide  a  range 


THE  FOREWORD  xiii 

of  fascinating  subjects  that  it  will  surely  entrance 
any  lad  or  lass  who,  opening  its  pages  for  pleasure- 
reading,  steps  with  Valentine  and  Ursine,  Robin 
Hood  and  Clorinda,  and  the  brave  outlaw  Mur- 
ray, into 

The  gude  green-wood  among  the  lUy  flower. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

My  thanks  are  due  Messrs.  Houghton  MiflBin 
Company  for  the  use  of  the  following  modern 
ballads,  "The  Ballad  of  the  Oysterman,"  by  Oli- 
ver Wendell  Holmes;  "The  Luck  of  Edenhall," 
"The  Three  Kings,"  and  "The  Skeleton  in  Ar- 
mour," by  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow;  "The 
Singing  Leaves,"  by  James  Russell  Lowell;  "Bar- 
clay of  Ury,"  by  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Among  the  authoritative  texts  from  which  I 
have  taken  ancient  and  popular  ballads,  are  Bell's 
Early  Ballads  and  Songs  of  the  Peasantry  of  Eng- 
land; Bishop  Percy's  Reliques  of  Ancient  English 
Poetry^  and  his  Folio  Manuscript,  edited  by  Hales 
and  Furnivall;  A  Collection  of  Old  Ballads,  London, 
1723-25;  Dixon's  Ancient  Poems,  Ballads,  and 
Songs  of  the  Peasantry  of  England  (Percy  Society) ; 
Jamieson's  Popular  Ballads  and  Songs;  Monk 
Lewis's  Tales  of  Wonder;  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy, 
Ancient  and  Modern;  Nicholson's  Historical  and 
Traditional  Tales  .  .  .  Connected  with  the  South  of 
Scotland;  Ritson's  Robin  Hood;  Sir  Walter  Scott's 
Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border;  Sheldon's  Min- 
strelsy of  the  English  Border;  also  the  scholarly 
collection  of  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Bal- 
lads, compiled  and  edited  by  Professor  Francis 


xvi  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

James  Child,  for  the  use  of  which  my  acknowledg- 
ments are  due  its  pubHshers,  Messrs.  Houghton 
Mifflin  Company. 

The  best  texts  available  have  been  followed 
for  the  original  ballads  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
George  Herbert,  Hogg,  Scott,  Lover,  Kingsley, 
Tennyson,  Campbell,  and  Keats. 


CONTENTS 

THE  SALT  BLUE  SEAS 

The  Stormy  Winds  Do  Blow      ....  2 

Sir  Patrick  Spens 3 

The  Daemon  Lover 7 

The  Mermaid      .       .       .       Dr.  John  Ley  den  10 

A-HARROWING  O'  THE  BORDER 

The  Galloway  Raid 20 

The  More  Modern  Ballad  of  Chevy-Chase  21 

The  Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed  Meg  .      .  32 

Belted  Will       .       .       .     Frederick  Sheldon  47 

BRAVE  HEARTS  AND  PROUD 

Earl  Haldan's  Daughter     Charles  Kingsley  58 

Lady  Clare  .       .      .    Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  59 

Proud  Lady  Margaret 62 

The  Famous  Flower  of  Serving-Men    .      .  G5 

Cochrane's  Bonny  Grizzy 70 

The  Greeting  of  Kynast 

Charles  T.  Brooks,  from  Ruckert  74 

LAYS  O'  FAERIE 

The  Fairy  Tempter  .      .      .      Samuel  Lover  80 

Alice  Bjsand        .      .       .        Sir  Walter  Scott  81 

The  Erl-King      Sir  Walter  Scott,  from  Goethe  86 

The  Fairy  Thorn      .      .      Samuel  Ferguson  87 

\  .  La  Belle  Dame  sans  Merci  .      .  John  Keats  91 


xviii  CONTENTS 

LAYS  O'  FAERIE  (continued) 

Thomas  the  Rhymer 93 

The  Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan 

Charles  Mackay    97 

KiLMENY  ....       The  Ettrick  Shepherd  101 

LAYS  O'  WONDER 

The  Wee  Wee  Man 114 

The  Earl  of  Mar's  Daughter  .      .      ,      .115 

Kemp  Owyne 122 

•    The  Lady  of  Shalott  Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  124 

^.  The  Singing  Leaves        James  Russell  Lowell  131 

The  Luck  of  Edenhall 

Henry  Wadsworih  Longfellow,  from  Uhland  135 

May  OF  the  MoRiL  Glen   The  Ettrick  Shepherd  138 

The  Laidley  Worm  o'  Spindleston-Heughs    148 

MERRY  GESTES 

.  A  Tragic  Story 

William  Makepeace  Thackeray,  from  Chamisso  158 

Little  Billee    William  Makepeace  Thackeray  159 

Brian  o'Linn i.      ,      .160 

Dicky  of  Ballyman 162 

\The  Ballad  of  the  Oysterman 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  164 

The  Cinder  King      .       .       .    Modern,  anon.  167 

The  Frolicksome  Duke;  or,  the  Tinker's 
Good  Fortune 169 

King  James  the  First  and  the  Tinkler       .  173 

King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd       .      .      .  176 


CONTENTS  xix 

SAD  GESTES 

The  Sands  of  Dee     .      .       Charles  Kingsley  190 

Fair  Anny  of  Rocii-royal 191 

The  Cruel  Sister 196 

Barbara  Allen's  Cruelty 201 

Song:  Earl  March  Looked  on  his  Dying 
Child Thomas  Campbell  203 

Lord  Lovel 204 

PRETTY  MAYS  AND  KNIGHTS  SO  BOLD 

The  Noble  Riddle 208 

Blancheflour  and  Jellyflorice      .      .      .  209 

Glenara        ....      Thomas  Campbell  212 

The  Beggar-Maid         Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  214 

»Lochinvar    ....         Sir  Walter  Scott  215 

The  Gay  Goss-Hawk 218 

Bonny  Baby  Livingston 224 

Hynd  Horn 231 

Young  Beichan  and  Susie  Pye         .      .      .  237 
The  Child  of  Elle 244 

FOR  HALLOWEEN  AND  MIDSUMMER  EVE 

The  Spell John  Gay  254> 

The  Young  Tamlane 255 

\  The  Wife  of  Usher's  Well        ....  263 

Sir  Roland 265 

The  Skeleton  in  Armour    H.  W.  Longfellow  270  ■ 
Sweet  William's  Ghost        .....  276 
The  Eve  of  St.  John       .      .  Sir  Walter  Scott  279 


XX 


CONTENTS 


ALL  UNDER  THE  GREENWOOD  TREE 

The  Birth  o'  Robin  Hood 290 


Robin  Hood  and  Little  John 
Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda   . 
Song  of  the  Outlaw  Murray 

Valentine  and  Ursine 


291 
297 
301 
314 


O'  PILGRIMAGE  AND  SOULS  SO  STRONG 

The  Pilgrim        ....      John  Bunyan  332 

The  Heart  of  the  Bruce 

William  Edmondsioune  Aytoun  333 

—  Barclay  of  Ury  .         John  Greenleaf  Whittier  341 


The  Touchstone 
Sir  Galahad  . 
Pilgrimage    . 
The  Royal  Court 
True  Valour 
Peace 


.  William  Allingham  347 

Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  348 

.    Sir  Walter  Raleigh  351 

Modern,  anon.  353 

John  Bunyan  355 

.    George  Herbert  356 


The  Three  Kings 


Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  357 


APPENDIX 

Suggestions  for  Teachers 363 

Programme  for  a  Year  of  Ballad-Reading 
AND  Study 366 

Glossary 373 

Subject  Index 385 

Index  of  First  Lines 390 

Index  of  Titles  and  Authors  ....  392 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  lift  grew  dark,   and  the   wind   blew 
LOUD,  and  gurly  GREW  THE  SEA   .       .     Frontispiece 

"I  FEAR  NOT  SIGN,"  QUOTH  THE  GRISLY  ELF,  "tHAT 

IS   MADE  WITH   BLOODY   HANDS "     ....      84 

He  TURNED  HIM  ROUND;  BUT  STILL  IT  HUNG  BE- 
HIND HIM 158 

But    SPRINGING    UP,    HE    RAISED    HIS    CLUB,    AND 

AIMED  A  DREADFUL  BLOW 318 


THE  SALT  BLUE  SEAS 


THE  STORMY  WINDS  DO  BLOW 

One  Friday  morn  when  we  set  sail, 

Not  very  far  from  land. 
We  there  did  espy  a  fair  pretty  maid 

With  a  comb  and  a  glass  in  her  hand,  her  hand,  her  hand. 

With  a  comb  and  a  glass  in  her  hand. 

While  the  raging  seas  did  roar. 
And  the  stormy  -winds  did  blow. 

While  we  jolly  sailor-boys  were  up  into  the  top. 
And  the  land-lubbers  lying  down  below,  below,  below. 
And  the  land-lubbers  lying  down  below. 

Then  up  starts  the  captain  of  our  gallant  ship. 

Arid  a  brave  young  man  was  he: 
"I've  a  wife  and  a  child  in  fair  Bristol  town. 

But  a  widow  I  fear  she  unll  be." 

Then  up  starts  the  mate  of  our  gallant  ship. 

And  a  bold  young  man  was  he: 
"Oh!  I  have  a  wife  in  fair  Portsmouth  town. 

But  a  widow  I  fear  she  will  be." 

Then  up  starts  the  cook  of  our  gallant  ship. 

And  a  gruf  old  soul  was  he: 
"Ohl  I  have  a  wife  in  fair  Plymouth  town. 

But  a  widow  I  fear  she  unll  be." 

And  then  up  spoke  the  little  cabin-boy. 

And  a  pretty  little  boy  was  he: 
"Oh!  I  ara  more  grievdfor  my  daddy  and  my  mammy 

Than  you  for  your  wives  all  three." 

Then  three  times  round  went  our  gallant  ship, 

Aixd  three  times  round  went  she: 
For  the  want  of  a  life-boat  they  all  went  down. 

And  she  sank  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

While  the  raging  seas  did  roar. 
And  the  stormy  winds  did  blow. 

While  we  jolly  sailor-boys  were  up  into  the  top. 

And  the  land-lubbers  lying  down  below,  below,  beloWt 
And  the  land-lubbers  lying  down  below. 


SIR  Px\TRICK  SPENS 

The  king  sits  in  Dunfermline  town, 
Drinking  the  blude-red  wine; 

*'0  whare  will  I  get  a  skeely  skipper. 
To  sail  this  new  ship  of  mine?" 

O  up  and  spake  an  eldern  knight. 
Sat  at  the  king's  right  knee,  — 

"Sir  Patrick  Spens  is  the  best  sailor, 
That  ever  sailed  the  sea."  — 

Our  king  has  written  a  braid  letter. 
And  seal'd  it  with  his  hand, 

And  sent  it  to  sir  Patrick  Spens, 
Was  walking  on  the  strand. 

"To  Noroway,  to  Noroway, 
To  Noroway  o'er  the  faem; 

The  king's  daughter  of  Noroway, 
'T  is  thou  maun  bring  her  hame." 

The  first  word  that  sir  Patrick  read, 

Sae  loud  loud  laughed  he; 
The  neist  word  that  sir  Patrick  read. 

The  tear  blinded  his  ee. 


4  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 


"0  wha  is  this  has  done  this  deed, 

And  tauld  the  king  o'  me, 
To  send  us  out,  at  this  time  of  the  year, 

To  sail  upon  the  sea? 

"Be  it  wind,  be  it  weet,  be  it  hail,  be  it  sleet, 

Our  ship  must  sail  the  faem; 
The  king's  daughter  of  Noroway, 

'T  is  we  must  fetch  her  hame."  — 

They  hoysed  their  sails  on  Monenday  morn, 

Wi*  a'  the  speed  they  may; 
They  hae  landed  in  Noroway, 

Upon  a  Wodensday. 

They  hadna  been  a  week,  a  week, 

In  Noroway,  but  twae. 
When  that  the  lords  o'  Noroway 

Began  aloud  to  say,  — 

**Ye  Scottishmen  spend  a'  our  king*s  goud, 

And  a'  our  queenis  fee."  — 
"Ye  lie,  ye  lie,  ye  liars  loud! 

Fu'  loud  I  hear  ye  lie: 

"For  I  brought  as  much  white  monie, 

As  gane  my  men  and  me, 
And  I  brought  a  half-fou  o'  gude  red  goud. 

Out  o'er  the  sea  wi'  me. 


SIR  PATRICK  SPENS  5 

"Make  ready,  make  ready,  my  merrymen  a'! 

Our  gude  ship  sails  the  morn,"  — 
"Now,  ever  alake,  my  master  dear, 

I  fear  a  deadly  storm ! 

**I  saw  the  new  moon,  late  yestreen, 

Wi'  the  auld  moon  in  her  arm; 
And,  if  we  gang  to  sea,  master, 

I  fear  we'll  come  to  harm." 

They  hadna  sail'd  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league  but  barely  three. 
When  the  lift  grew  dark,  and  the  wind  blew  loud. 

And  gurly  grew  the  sea. 

The  ankers  brak,  and  the  top-masts  lap, 

It  was  sic  a  deadly  storm; 
And  the  waves  cam  o'er  the  broken  ship. 

Till  a'  her  sides  were  torn. 

"0  where  will  I  get  a  gude  sailor. 

To  take  my  helm  in  hand, 
Till  I  get  up  to  the  tall  top-mast; 

To  see  if  I  can  spy  land?" — 

*'0  here  am  I,  a  sailor  gude. 

To  take  the  helm  in  hand. 
Till  you  go  up  to  the  tall  top-mast; 

But  I  fear  you'll  ne'er  spy  land." 


6  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

He  hadna  gane  a  step,  a  step, 

A  step  but  barely  ane, 
When  a  bout  flew  out  of  our  goodly  ship. 

And  the  salt  sea  it  cam  in. 

*'Gae,  fetch  a  web  o'  the  silken  claith. 

Another  o'  the  twine, 
And  wap  them  into  our  ship's  side, 

And  letna  the  sea  come  in."  — 

They  fetch'd  a  web  o'  the  silken  claith, 

Another  o'  the  twine, 
And  they  wapp'd  them  round  that  gude  ship's  side. 

But  still  the  sea  cam  in. 

O  laith,  laith,  were  our  gude  Scots  lords 

To  weet  their  cork-heel 'd  shoon ! 
But  lang  or  a'  the  play  was  play'd. 

They  wat  their  hats  aboon. 

And  mony  was  the  feather  bed. 

That  flatter'd  on  the  faem; 
And  mony  was  the  gude  lord's  son. 

That  never  mair  cam  hame. 

The  ladyes  wrang  their  fingers  white, 

The  maidens  tore  their  hair, 
A'  for  the  sake  of  their  true  loves; 

For  them  they  '11  see  na  mair. 


THE  D^MON  LOVER  7 

O  lang,  lang,  may  the  ladyes  sit, 
Wi'  their  fans  into  their  hand, 

Before  they  see  sir  Patrick  Spens 
Come  saiUng  to  the  strand ! 

And  lang,  lang,  may  the  maidens  sit, 
With  their  goud  kaims  in  their  hair, 

A'waiting  for  their  ain  dear  loves ! 
For  them  they  '11  see  nae  mair. 

O  forty  miles  off  Aberdeen, 

'T  is  fifty  fathoms  deep. 
And  there  hes  gude  sir  Patrick  Spens, 

Wi'  the  Scots  lords  at  his  feet. 

THE  D^MON  LOVER 

*'0  WHERE  have  you  been,  my  long,  long  love. 
This  long  seven  years  and  mair?" 

*'0  I'm  come  to  seek  my  former  vows 
Ye  granted  me  before." 

*'0  hold  your  tongue  of  your  former  vows, 

For  they  will  breed  sad  strife; 
O  hold  your  tongue  of  your  former  vows. 

For  I  am  become  a  wife." 

He  turned  him  right  and  round  about, 

And  the  tear  blinded  his  ee: 
*'I  wad  never  hae  trodden  on  Irish  ground, 

If  it  had  not  been  for  thee. 


8  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

**I  might  hae  had  a  king's  daughter, 

Far,  far  beyond  the  sea; 
I  might  have  had  a  king's  daughter. 

Had  it  not  been  for  love  o  thee.'* 

"If  ye  might  have  had  a  king's  daughter, 

Yer  sel  ye  had  to  blame; 
Ye  might  have  taken  the  king's  daughter. 

For  ye  kend  that  I  was  nane. 

*'If  I  was  to  leave  my  husband  dear. 

And  my  two  babes  also, 
O  what  have  you  to  take  me  to. 

If  with  you  I  should  go?" 

"I  hae  seven  ships  upon  the  sea  — 
The  eighth  brought  me  to  land  — 

With  four-and-twenty  bold  mariners. 
And  music  on  every  hand." 

She  has  taken  up  her  two  little  babes, 
Kissd  them  baith  cheek  and  chin: 

*'0  fair  ye  weel,  my  ain  two  babes. 
For  I'll  never  see  you  again." 

She  set  her  foot  upon  the  ship, 
No  mariners  could  she  behold; 

But  the  sails  were  o  the  taffetie, 
And  llie  masts  o  the  beaten  gold. 


1 


THE  DiEMON  LOVER  9 

She  had  not  sailed  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league  but  barely  three, 
When  dismal  grew  his  countenance. 

And  drumlie  grew  his  ee. 

They  had  not  saild  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league  but  barely  three, 
Until  she  espied  his  cloven  foot. 

And  she  wept  right  bitterlie. 

**0  hold  your  tongue  of  your  weeping,*' 
says  he, 

*'0f  your  weeping  now  let  me  be; 
I  will  shew  you  how  the  Hlies  grow 

On  the  banks  of  Italy." 

* 

"0  what  hills  are  yon,  yon  pleasant  hills,' 
That  the  sun  shines  sweetly  on?" 

**0  von  are  the  hills  of  heaven,"  he  said, 
"Where  you  will  never  win." 


"O  whaten  a  mountain  is  yon,"  she  said, 
"All  so  dreary  wi  frost  and  snow?" 

"O  yon  is  the  mountain  of  hell,"  he  cried, 
"Where  you  and  I  will  go." 

He  strack  the  tap-mast  wi  his  hand. 

The  fore-mast  wi  his  knee, 
And  he  brake  that  gallant  ship  in  twain. 

And  sank  her  in  the  sea. 


10  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

THE  MERMAID 

PART  I 

On  Jura's  heath  how  sweetly  swell 
The  murmurs  of  the  mountain  bee! 

How  softly  mourns  the  writhed  shell 
Of  Jura's  shore,  its  parent  sea! 

But  softer,  floating  o'er  the  deep. 

The  Mermaid's  sweet  sea-soothing  lay, 

That  charmed  the  dancing  waves  to  sleep. 
Before  the  bark  of  Colonsay. 

Aloft  the  purple  pennons  wave. 

As  parting  gay  from  Crinan's  shore, 

From  Morven's  wars  the  seamen  brave 
Their  gallant  Chieftain  homeward  bore. 

In  youth's  gay  bloom,  the  brave  Macphail 
Still  blamed  the  lingering  bark's  delay; 

For  her  he  chid  the  flagging  sail. 
The  lovely  Maid  of  Colonsay. 

"And  raise,"  he  cried,  "the  song  of  love, 
The  maiden  sung  with  tearful  smile. 

When  first,  o'er  Jura's  hills  to  rove, 
We  left  afar  the  lonely  isle !  — 


THE  MERMAID  11 

**'When  on  this  ring  of  ruby  red 

Shall  die,'  she  said,  'the  crimson  hue, 

Know  that  thy  favourite  fair  is  dead. 
Or  proves  to  thee  and  love  untrue.'" 

Now,  lightly  poised,  the  rising  oar 
Disperses  wide  the  foamy  spray, 

And,  echoing  far  o'er  Crinan's  shore. 
Resounds  the  song  of  Colonsay. 

"Softly  blow,  thou  western  breeze. 

Softly  rustle  through  the  sail! 
Soothe  to  rest  the  furrowy  seas. 

Before  my  Love,  sweet  western  gale!'* 

Thus,  all  to  soothe  the  Chieftain's  woe. 
Far  from  the  maid  he  loved  so  dear. 

The  song  arose,  so  soft  and  slow, 
He  seemed  her  parting  sigh  to  hear. 

The  lonely  deck  he  paces  o'er, 

Impatient  for  the  rising  day. 
And  still,  from  Crinan's  moonlight  shore, 

He  turns  his  eyes  to  Colonsay. 

The  moonbeams  crisp  the  curling  surge, 
That  streaks  with  foam  the  ocean  green: 

While  forward  still  the  rowers  urge 
Their  course,  a  female  form  was  seen. 


12  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

That  Sea-maid's  form,  of  pearly  light, 
Was  whiter  than  the  downy  spray, 

And  round  her  bosom,  heaving  bright. 
Her  glossy,  yellow  ringlets  play. 

Borne  on  a  foamy-crested  wave, 

She  reached  amain  the  bounding  prow. 

Then  clasping  fast  the  Chieftain  brave. 
She,  plunging,  sought  the  deep  below. 

Ah !  long  beside  thy  feigned  bier, 
The  monks  the  prayers  of  death  shall  say. 

And  long,  for  thee,  the  fruitless  tear 
Shall  weep  the  Maid  of  Colonsay ! 

PART  II 

But  downwards,  hke  a  powerless  corse, 
The  eddying  waves  the  Chieftain  bear; 

He  only  heard  the  moaning  hoarse 
Of  waters,  murmuring  in  his  ear. 

The  murmurs  sink,  by  slow  degrees; 

No  more  the  surges  round  him  rave; 
Lulled  by  the  music  of  the  seas, 

He  lies  within  a  coral  cave. 

In  dreamy  mood  reclines  he  long,  ^ 
Nor  dares  his  tranced  eyes  unclose, 

Till,  warbling  wild,  the  Sea-maid's  song. 
Far  in  the  crystal  cavern,  rose; 


I 


THE  MERMAID  13 

"This  yellow  sand,  this  sparry  cave, 
Shall  bend  thy  soul  to  beauty's  sway; 

Canst  thou  the  maiden  of  the  wave 
Compare  to  her  of  Colonsay?" 

Roused  by  that  voice,  of  silver  sound, 
From  the  paved  floor  he  lightly  sprung. 

And,  glancing  wild  his  eyes  around, 
Where  the  fair  Nymph  her  tresses  wrung, 

No  form  he  saw  of  mortal  mould; 

It  shone  like  ocean's  snowy  foam; 
Her  ringlets  waved  in  living  gold. 

Her  mirror  crystal,  pearl  her  comb. 

Her  pearly  comb  the  Siren  took. 

And  careless  bound  her  tresses  wild; 

Still  o'er  the  mirror  stole  her  look. 

As  on  the  wondering  youth  she  smiled. 

Like  music  from  the  greenwood  tree, 
Again  she  raised  the  melting  lay; 

"Fair  Warrior,  wilt  thou  dwell  with  me. 
And  leave  the  Maid  of  Colonsay? 

"Fair  is  the  crystal  hall  for  me, 
With  rubies  and  with  emeralds  set. 

And  sweet  the  music  of  the  sea 

Shall  sing,  when  we  for  love  are  met. 


14  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"How  sweet  to  dance,  with  gliding  feet. 

Along  the  level  tide  so  green, 
Responsive  to  the  cadence  sweet. 

That  breathes  along  the  moonlight  scene ! 

*'And  soft  the  music  of  the  main 
Rings  from  the  motley  tortoise-shell. 

While  moonbeams,  o'er  the  watery  plain, 
Seem  trembhng  in  its  fitful  swell. 

"Through  the  green  meads  beneath  the  sea, 
Enamoured,  we  shall  fondly  stray  — 

Then,  gentle  warrior,  dwell  with  me, 
And  leave  the  Maid  of  Colonsay ! "  — 

"Though  bright  thy  locks  of  glistening  gold. 
Fair  maiden  of  the  foamy  main ! 

Thy  life-blood  is  the  water  cold. 

While  mine  beats  high  in  every  vein. 

"Though  all  the  splendour  of  the  sea 
Around  thy  faultless  beauty  shine. 

That  heart,  that  riots  wild  and  free. 
Can  hold  no  sympathy  with  mine. 

"These  sparkling  eyes,  so  wild  and  gay. 
They  swim  not  in  the  Hght  of  love:, 

The  beauteous  Maid  of  Colonsay, 
Her  eyes  are  milder  than  the  dove! 


THE  MERMAID  15 

"Even  now,  within  the  lonely  isle, 
Her  eyes  are  dim  with  tears  for  me; 

And  canst  thou  think  that  siren  smile 
Can  lure  my  soul  to  dwell  with  thee?" 

An  oozy  film  her  limbs  o'erspread; 

Unfolds  in  length  her  scaly  train : 
She  tossed,  in  proud  disdain,  her  head. 

And  lashed,  with  webbed  fin,  the  main. 

"Dwell  here,  alone!"  the  Mermaid  cried, 
"And  view  far  off  the  Sea-nymphs  play; 

Thy  prison-wall,  the  azure  tide. 
Shall  bar  thy  steps  from  ColonsaJ^. 

"Whene'er,  hke  Ocean's  scaly  brood, 
I  cleave,  with  rapid  fin,  the  wave. 

Far  from  the  daughter  of  the  flood, 
Conceal  thee  in  this  coral  cave. 

"I  feel  my  former  soul  return; 

It  kindles  at  thy  cold  disdain : 
And  has  a  mortal  dared  to  spurn 

A  daughter  of  the  foamy  main!"  — 

She  fled;  around  the  crystal  cave 
The  rolling  waves  resume  their  road 

On  the  broad  portal  idly  rave. 

But  enter  not  the  Nymph's  abode. 


16  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  many  a  weary  night  went  by. 

As  in  the  lonely  cave  he  lay; 
And  many  a  smi  rolled  through  the  sky. 

And  poured  its  beams  on  Colonsay; 

And  oft,  beneath  the  silver  moon, 
He  heard  afar  the  Mermaid  sing. 

And  oft,  to  many  a  melting  tune,     -- 
The  shell-formed  lyres  of  ocean  ring: 

And  when  the  moon  went  down  the  sky, 
Still  rose,  in  dreams,  his  native  plain, 

And  oft  he  thought  his  love  was  by, 

And  charmed  him  with  some  tender  strain; 

And  heart-sick,  oft  he  waked  to  weep. 
When  ceased  that  voice  of  silver  sound, 

And  thought  to  plunge  him  in  the  deep. 
That  walled  his  crystal  cavern  romid. 

But  still  the  ring,  of  ruby  red, 

Retained  its  vivid  crimson  hue. 
And  each  despairing  accent  fled, 

To  find  his  gentle  Love  so  true. 

PART  III 

When  seven  long  lonely  months  were  gone, 
The  Mermaid  to  his  cavern  came. 

No  more  misshapen  from  the  zone. 
But  like  a  maid  of  mortal  frame. 


THE  MERIVLVID  17 

*'0  give  to  me  that  ruby  ring, 
That  on  thy  finger  glances  gay, 

And  thou  shalt  hear  the  Mermaid  sing 
The  song,  thou  lovest,  of  Colonsay."  — 

*'This  ruby  ring,  of  crimson  grain. 

Shall  on  thy  finger  glitter  gay, 
If  thou  wilt  bear  me  through  the  main. 

Again  to  visit  Colonsay."  — 

"Except  thou  quit  thy  former  Love, 
Content  to  dwell  for  aye  with  me. 

Thy  scorn  my  finny  frame  might  move. 
To  tear  thy  hmbs  amid  the  sea."  — 

"Then  bear  me  swift  along  the  main. 

The  lonely  isle  again  to  see. 
And,  when  I  here  return  again, 

I  plight  my  faith  to  dwell  with  thee."  — 

An  oozy  film  her  limbs  o'erspread. 
While  slow  unfolds  her  scaly  train. 

With  gluey  fangs  her  hands  were  clad. 
She  lashed,  with  webbed  fin,  the  main. 

He  grasps  the  Mermaid's  scaly  sides. 
As,  with  broad  fin,  she  oars  her  way; 

Beneath  the  silent  moon  she  ghdes. 
That  sweetly  sleeps  on  Colonsay. 


18  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Proud  swells  her  heart!  she  deems,  at  last. 
To  lure  him  with  her  silver  tongue, 

And,  as  the  shelving  rocks  she  past, 
She  raised  her  voice,  and  sweetly  sung. 

In  softer,  sweeter  strains  she  sung. 
Slow  gliding  o'er  the  moonlight  bay. 

When  light  to  land  the  Chieftain  sprung. 
To  hail  the  Maid  of  Colonsay. 

Oh !  sad  the  Mermaid's  gay  notes  fell. 

And  sadly  sink  remote  at  sea! 
So  sadly  mourns  the  writhed  shell 

Of  Jura's  shore,  its  parent  sea. 

And  ever  as  the  year  returns, 

The  charm-bound  sailors  know  the  day, 

For  sadly  still  the  Mermaid  mourns 

The  lovely  Chief  of  Colonsay. 

Dr.  John  Ley  den.    (Condensed) 


A-HARROWING  0'  THE  BORDER 


THE  GALLOWAY  RAID 

The  reavers  of  Eskdale  were  mounted  for  weir. 
And  Annandale  moss-troopers  grasped  the  spear; 
And  the  blades  that  they  bore  in  the  sun  glittered  bright; 
And  breast-plate  and  helmet  reflected  the  light. 

They  spurred  the  fleet  charger  thro"  bog  and  thro'  brake; 
To  the  yell  of  their  slogan  the  echoes  awake; 
The  Johnstones  and  Jardines  cry,  "Lads,  we'll  away. 
And  well  foray  the  pastures  of  Fair  Galloway!" 

The  men  were  determined  —  their  steeds  they  were  strong. 
And  eager  for  plunder  they  pranced  along; 
The  clang  of  their  weapons  rung  loud  on  the  dale. 
And  their  helmet-plumes  waving  aloft  on  the  gale. 

Beholdst  thou  the  beacon-light  gleaming  afar. 
On  misty  Glenbennan,  the  signal  of  war? 
Bengairn  and  Caerlochan  their  blazes  display. 
And  they  warn  the  bold  spearmen  of  Fair  Galloway. 

But  the  damsels  of  Esk  and  of  Annan  may  mourn. 
And  in  vain  may  they  look  for  their  lorers'  return; 
On  the  green  dale  of  Dryburgh  they  rest  in  their  grave. 
And  o'er  them  the  hemlock  and  rank  nettles  wave. 

And  few  have  escaped  from  the  Galloway  spear. 
That  followed  the  flying  and  glanced  in  their  rear. 
And  the  moss-troopers'  widows  are  ruing  the  day 
Their  husbands  departed  for  Fair  Gallouay. 

{Condensed) 


1 


THE  MORE  MODERN  BALLAD  OF 
CHE\T-CHASE 

PART  I 

God  prosper  long  our  no})le  King, 

Our  liffes  and  saf tyes  all ! 
A  woefull  hunting  once  there  was 

In  Chevy-Chase  befall. 

To  drive  the  deere  with  hound  and  home, 

Erie  Percy  took  the  way; 
The  child  may  rue  that  is  unborne 

The  hunting  of  that  day! 

The  stout  Erie  of  Northumberland 

A  vow  to  God  did  make, 
His  pleasure  in  the  Scottish  woods 

Three  sommers  days  to  take; 

The  cheefest  harts  in  Chevy-Chase 

To  kill  and  beare  away. 
These  tydings  to  Erie  Douglas  came. 

In  Scottland  where  he  lay, 

WTio  sent  Erie  Percy  present  word. 

He  wold  prevent  his  sport, 
The  English  Erie,  not  fearing  that. 

Did  to  the  woods  resort, 


22  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

With  fifteen  hundred  bowmen  bold, 

All  chosen  men  of  might, 
Who  knew  ffull  well  in  time  of  neede 

To  ayme  their  shafts  arright. 

The  gallant  greyhounds  swiftly  ran 

To  chase  the  fallow  deere; 
On  Munday  they  began  to  hunt 

Ere  daylight  did  appeare; 

And  long  before  high  noone  they  had 

A  hundred  fat  buckes  slaine. 
Then  having  dined,  the  drovyers  went 

To  rouze  the  deare  againe; 

The  bowmen  mustered  on  the  hills. 

Well  able  to  endure; 
Theire  backsids  all  with  speciall  care. 

That  day  were  guarded  sure. 

The  hounds  ran  swiftly  through  the  woods 

The  nimble  deere  to  take, 
That  with  their  cryes  the  hills  and  dales 

An  eccho  shrill  did  make. 

Lord  Percy  to  the  quarry  went 

To  view  the  tender  deere; 
Quoth  he,  "Erie  Douglas  promised  once 

This  day  to  meete  me  heere; 


I 


BALLAD  OF  CHEVY-CHASE  23 

*But  if  I  thought  he  wold  not  come, 

Noe  longer  wold  I  stay." 
With  that,  a  brave  younge  gentlman 

Thus  to  the  Erie  did  say, 

*'Loe,  yonder  doth  Erie  Douglas  come, 

His  men  in  armour  bright, 
Full  twenty  hundred  Scottish  speres 
\  All  marching  in  our  sight, 

**A11  men  of  pleasant  Tivy^dale, 

Fast  by  the  river  Tweede:" 
"0  ceaze  your  sportts!"  Erie  Percy  said, 

**And  take  your  bowes  with  specde. 

"And  now  with  me,  my  country^men. 

Your  courage  forth  advance! 
For  there  was  never  champion  yett 

Li  Scottland  nor  in  France, 

r 

**That  ever  did  on  horsbacke  come. 

But  if  my  hap  it  were, 
I  durst  encounter  man  for  man, 

With  him  to  breake  a  spere." 

Erie  Douglas  on  liis  milke  white  steede. 

Most  like  a  Baron  bold, 
Rode  formost  of  his  company, 

Whose  armour  shone  like  gold. 


24  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Shew  me,"  sayd  hee,  "whose  men  you  bee, 

That  hunt  soe  boldly  heere. 
That  without  my  consent  doe  chase 

And  kill  my  fallow  deere." 

The  first  man  that  did  answer  make 

Was  noble  Percy  hee, 
Who  sayd,  "Wee  list  not  to  declare. 

Nor  shew  whose  men  wee  bee. 

*'Yett  wee  will  spend  our  deerest  blood 

Thy  cheefest  harts  to  slay." 
Then  Douglas  swore  a  solempne  oathe. 

And  thus  in  rage  did  say; 

**Ere  thus  I  will  outbraved  bee. 

One  of  us  tow  shall  dye! 
I  know  thee  well!  an  Erie  thou  art. 

Lord  Percy!  Soe  am  I; 

*'But  trust  me,  Percye,  pittye  it  were. 

And  great  offence,  to  kill 
Then  any  of  these  our  guiltlesse  men. 

For  they  have  done  none  ill; 

"Let  thou  and  I  the  battell  trye, 

And  set  our  men  aside." 
"Accurst  bee  he!"  Erie  Percy  sayd, 

"By  whome  it  is  denyed." 


BALLAD  OF  CIIEVY-CHASE  25 

Then  slept  a  gallant  Squire  forth,  — 
Witherington  was  his  name,  — 

Who  said,  "I  wold  not  have  it  told 
To  Ilenery  our  King,  for  shame, 

**That  ere  my  captaine  fought  on  foote. 

And  I  stand  looking  on : 
You  bee  two  Erles,"  quoth  Witherington, 

"And  I  a  Squier  alone, 

**Ile  doe  the  best  that  doe  I  may. 

While  I  have  power  to  stand! 
While  I  have  power  to  weeld  my  sword, 

He  fight  with  hart  and  hand!" 

Our  English  archers  bend  their  bowes  — 
Their  harts  were  good  and  trew,  — 

Att  the  first  flight  of  arrowes  sent. 
Full  foure  score  Scotts  they  slew. 

To  drive  the  deere  with  hound  and  home, 

Douglas  bade  on  the  bent; 
Two  captaines  moved  with  mickle  might 

Their  speres  to  shivers  went. 

They  closed  full  fast  on  everye  side, 

Noe  slacknes  there  was  found, 
But  many  a  gallant  gentleman 

Lay  gasping  on  the  ground. 


26  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

O  Christ!  it  was  great  greeve  to  see 
How  eche  man  chose  his  spere, 

And  how  the  blood  out  of  their  brests 
Did  gush  hke  water  cleare ! 

At  last  these  two  stout  Erles  did  meet 
Like  captaines  of  great  might; 

Like  Lyons  wood  they  layd  on  lode, 
They  made  a  cruell  fight. 

They  fought  untill  they  both  did  sweat, 
With  swords  of  tempered  Steele, 

Till  blood  a-downe  their  cheekes  like  raine 
They  trickhng  downe  did  feele. 

"0  yeeld  thee,  Pereye!"  Douglas  sayd, 
And  infaith  I  will  thee  bringe 

Where  thou  shall  high  advanced  bee 
By  James  our  Scottish  King; 

"Thy  ransome  I  will  freely  give, 

And  this  report  of  thee, 
Thou  art  the  most  couragious  Knight 

That  ever  I  did  see." 

*'Noe,  Douglas!"  quoth  Erie  Percy  then, 

"Thy  profer  I  doe  scorne; 
I  will  not  yeelde  to  any  Scott 

That  ever  yett  was  borne!" 


BALLAD  OF  CIIEVY-CILVSE  27 

With  that  there  came  an  arrow  keene 

Out  of  an  English  bow, 
Who  scorke  Erie  Douglas  on  the  brest 

A  dcepe  and  deadlye  blow; 

Who  never  sayd  more  words  then  these, 

"Fight  on  my  merry  men  all! 
For  why,  my  life  is  att  an  end. 

Lord  Percy  sees  my  fall." 

Then  leaving  liffe,  Erie  Percy  tooke 

The  dead  man  by  the  hand; 
And  said,  "Erie  Douglas!  for  thy  sake 

Wold  I  had  lost  my  land ! 

"O  Christ!  my  verry  hart  doth  bleed 

For  sorrow  for  thy  sake! 
For  sure,  a  more  redoubted  Knight, 

JNIischance  cold  never  take!" 

'  PART  II 

A  Knight  amongst  the  Scotts  there  was, 

Wliich  saw  Erie  Douglas  dye, 
Who  streight  in  hart  did  vow  revenge 

Upon  the  Lord  Percye. 

Sir  Hugh  Mountgomerye  was  he  called. 

Who,  with  a  spere  full  bright, 
Well  mounted  on  a  gallant  steed, 

Ran  feircly  through  the  fight. 


S8  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  past  the  English  archers  all 

Without  all  dread  or  feare. 
And  through  Erie  Percyes  body  then 

He  thrust  his  hatfull  spere, 

With  such  a  vehement  force  and  might. 

That  his  body  he  did  gore, 
The  staff  ran  through  the  other  side 

A  large  cloth  yard  and  more. 

Thus  did  both  those  nobles  dye. 
Whose  courage  none  cold  staine. 

An  English  archer  then  perceived 
The  noble  Erie  was  slaine, 

He  had  a  good  bow  in  his  hand 

Made  of  a  trusty  tree; 
An  arrow  of  a  cloth  yard  long 

To  the  hard  head  haled  hee. 

Against  Sir  Hugh  Mountgomerye 
His  shaft  full  right  he  sett; 

The  grey  goose  winge  that  was  there-on, 
Li  his  harts  bloode  was  wett. 

This  fight  from  breake  of  day  did  last 

Till  setting  of  the  sun, 
For  when  they  rung  the  Evening  bell 

The  battele  scarse  was  done. 


BALLAD  OF  CIIEVY-CHASE  29 

With  stout  Erie  Percy  there  was  slaine 

Sir  John  of  Egerton, 
Sir  Robert  HarcHffe  and  Sir  Wilham, 

Sir  James  that  bold  barron ; 

And  with  Sir  George  and  Sir  James, 
Both  Knights  of  good  account: 

And  good  Sir  Raphe  Rebbye  there  was 
slaine, 
WTiose  prowesse  did  surmount. 

For  Witherington  needs  must  I  wayle 

As  one  in  doleful  dumpes, 
For  when  his  leggs  were  smitten  of. 

He  fought  upon  his  stumpes. 

And  with  Erie  Douglas  there  was  slaine 

Sir  Hugh  Mountgomerye, 
And  Sir  Charles  Morrell  that  from  feelde 

One  foote  wold  never  flee; 

Sir  Roger  Hever  of  HarclifFe  tow,  — 

His  sisters  sonne  w^as  hee,  — 
Sir  David  Lamb  so  well  esteemed 

But  saved  he  cold  not  bee; 

And  the  Lord  Maxwell  in  like  case 

With  Douglas  he  did  dye; 
Of  twenty  hundred  Scottish  speeres, 

Scarce  fifty  five  did  flye; 


30  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Of  fifteen  hundred  Englishmen 

Went  home  but  fifty  three; 
The  rest  in  Chevy-Chase  were  slaine, 

Under  the  greenwoode  tree. 

Next  day  did  many  widdowes  come 

Their  husbands  to  bewayle; 
They  washt  their  wounds  in  brinish  teares. 

But  all  wold  not  prevayle. 

Theyr  bodyes  bathed  in  purple  blood. 

They  bore  with  them  away. 
They  kist  them  dead  a  thousand  times 

Ere  they  were  cladd  in  clay. 

The  newes  was  brought  to  Eddenborrow 
Where  Scottland's  King  did  rayne. 

That  brave  Erie  Douglas  soddainlye 
Was  with  an  arrow  slaine. 

**0  heavy  newes!"  King  James  can  say, 
"Scottland  may  wittenesse  bee 

I  have  not  any  captaine  more 
Of  such  account  as  hee!" 

Like  tydings  to  King  Henery  came 

Within  as  short  a  space. 
That  Percy  of  Northumberland 

Was  slaine  in  Chevy-Chase. 


r 


BALLAD  OF  CHEVY-CILVSE  31 

'Now  God  be  with  liim!"  said  our  King, 

*'Sith  it  will  noe  better  bee, 
I  trust  I  have  within  my  realme 
Five  hundred  as  good  as  hee! 

"Yett  shall  not  Scotts  nor  Scottland  say 

But  I  will  vengeance  take, 
And  be  revenged  on  them  all 

For  brave  Erie  Percyes  sake." 

This  vow  the  King  did  well  performe 

After  on  Humble  Downe; 
In  one  day  fifty  Knights  were  slayne. 

With  Lords  of  great  renowne. 

And  of  the  rest  of  small  account, 

Did  many  hundreds  dye: 
Thus  endeth  the  hunting  in  Chevy-Chase 

Made  by  the  Erie  Percye. 

God  save  our  King,  and  blesse  tliis  land 

With  plentye,  joy,  and  peace; 
And  grant  hencforth  that  foule  debate 

Twixt  noble  men  may  ceaze ! 

ffins. 


\ 


32  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

THE  BALLAD  OF  MEIKLE-MOUTHED 

MEG 

BOLD  WILLIE  SCOTT 

The  moonbeam  glints  on  tower  and  hill, 
It 's  hey !  for  the  bonny  moonlight ! 

*'Go  saddle  my  steed,  I'll  ride  betimes. 
The  English  Border  to-night." 

"Take  tent,  good  lad,  the  Warder's  men 

Are  riding  over  the  land." 
"Tuts!  six  Scotts  lads  will  keep  two  score 
''    Of  such  feckless  loons  at  a  stand ! " 

Oh !  they  were  twenty  stout  and  bold, 

Mounted  on  active  naigs; 
Some  armed  wi'  guns  and  Jeddart  staves, 

Wi'  iron  round  their  craigs. 

Young  Scott  o'  Harden,  led  them  on 

To  the  lands  o'  Elibank; 
"Good  faith,  I  wat  Sir  Gideon 

Will  no  his  kindness  thank."  ^ 

He  left  his  towers  by  Ettrick's  stream. 
His  minnie's  proverb  scorning; 

When  Scotts  set  foot  in  the  stirrup-ring, 
The  blood  will  flow  ere  morning. 


MEIKLE-MOUTIIED  MEG  33 

Sir  Gideon  and  young  Willie  Scott 

Were  ever  deadly  foes; 
Ere  they  shall  clasp  each  other's  hand, 

The  Gowan  shall  grow  on  the  Rose. 

THE  RAID 

They  gained  the  lands  o'  Elibank, 
And  gathered  the  gear  together; 

They  counted  tens,  and  came  to  scores. 
And  drove  them  out  the  heather. 

There  was  not  a  Murray  on  the  lea, 
Young  Scott  his  heart  was  light; 

"There'll  be  a  dry  breakfast  at  Ehbank, 
At  Oak  wood,  a  meal  to-night." 

They  got  half  way  to  Ettrick  stream. 
When  they  heard  a  sleuth-hound  yell, 

And  Scott  well  kenned  his  mortal  foe. 
Pursued  him  o'er  the  fell. 

Sir  Gideon  was  a  doure  fierce  man, 

A  terror  to  a  foe; 
He  had  a  wife  and  daughters  three. 

Well  dowered  they  were  I  trow. 

He  let  young  Harden  steal  his  cows, 

And,  oh!  his  arm  was  slack; 
But  the  grim  old  Knight  was  looking  on 

Wi'  fifty  men  at  his  back. 


J» 


34  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"I  have  thee  now  Hke  a  thief  in  a  mill, 

Sir  Gideon  o'  Elibank  said; 
He  gave  the  word  to  loose  the  hounds; 

And  the  hot  pursuit  he  led. 

"Young  Scott,  yield  quietly  to  me," 

Sir  Gideon  loudly  cried, 
"Or  a  thief's  death  shall  ye  die, 

If  ye  the  onset  bide. 

"Ye've  driven  off  my  cows  and  sheep,' 
And  byre  and  fold  are  toom, 

The  corbies  and  ye  shall  be  acquaint, 
For  what  this  night  ye've  done." 

"Brag  on!  brag  on!  ye  old  greybeard! 

While  Scott  o'  Harden  stands, 
No  power  on  earth  shall  make  him  yield 

To  any  o'  Murray's  bands. 

"So  do  your  best,  and  do  your  worst. 
Here's  a  hand  and  sword  to  fight; 

I  trow  a  Scott  ne'er  turned  his  back 
Whilst  a  Murray  was  in  sight."  , 

"Small  mercy  after  what  ye've  stol'n, 

I  had  designed  for  thee; 
But,  callant,  after  what  ye've  said, 

I'll  prove  your  enemy." 


IVIEIKLE-MOUTIIED  MEG  35 

"Thou  old  man,  measure  weapons  then, 

And  I  would  have  ye  leave 
Your  well-faured  daughters  to  the  world. 

For  your  loss  must  they  grieve." 

"Before  sunrise,"  quoth  Gideon, 

"You'll  speak  less  vauntingly; 
Say  what  ye  like  of  me,  you  dog. 

But  leave  my  bairnies  be." 

The  strife  went  high  and  bloodily. 

They  grappled  at  the  throat; 
And  many  was  the  Elibank, 

The  reavers  deadly  smote. 

The  guns  banged  off,  the  sleuth-hounds  yelled. 

The  cattle  rowted  sore; 
And  many  wights  lay  on  the  ground. 

That  up  rose  never  more. 

The  fray  went  hard  wi'  Wilhe  Scott, 

His  horse  fell  wi'  a  bound, 
And  many  Murrays  wi'  their  swords 

Bore  him  unto  the  ground. 

THE  GALLOWS  OR  MARRIAGE 

Lady  Murray  came  forth  at  noon. 

To  welcome  her  husband  home; 
And  there  she  spied  young  Scott  o'  Harden, 

All  bounden  and  liis  lone. 


36  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

They  thrust  the  Scott  in  a  darksome  room, 

And  left  him  to  his  thought; 
But  neither  bread  nor  yet  red  wine 

Unto  the  youth  they  brought. 

"And  what,  Lord  Gideon,"  said  his  dame, 
"Will  ye  do  wi'  young  Scott?" 

"Do  ye  see  yonder  branch  o'  the  elm. 
For  that  shall  be  his  lot." 

"O  goodman,"  quo'  his  pitying  dame, 
"Ye  could  not  do  this  thing; 

For  lifting  a  pickle  o'  your  nowt, 
So  brave  a  lad  to  hing!" 

"What  mercy  did  ever  a  Scott  o'  them 

E'er  show  to  me  or  mine? 
The  reaving  Scotts  shall  surely  weep. 

The  last  of  all  their  line." 

She  said,  "But  we  have  daughters  three, 
And  they  are  no  well-faured, 

When  ye've  a  husband  to  your  hand. 
To  hang  him  would  be  hard." 

"Sooth,  goodwife,  faith,  but  ye  are  right! 

There's  wisdom  in  your  say; 
This  birkie  Scott  shall  have  his  choice. 

To  wed  what  one  he  may. 


MEIKLE-MOUTHED  MEG  37 

"We'll  give  him  respite  to  the  morn, 

Nor  hang  him  'gainst  all  law; 
To  marry  our  daughter  Meikle-Mouthed  Meg, 

Or  choke  with  the  death-thraw." 

Quo'  she,  "  To  marry  our  daughter  Meg 

More  wiselike  would  it  be, 
Than  kill  the  hope  of  an  old,  old  House 

And  strap  liim  to  the  tree." 

Quo'  he,  *'  If  I  were  in  his  place, 

I  would  refuse  I  ween, 
And  die  a  death  upon  the  tree. 

Than  wed  what  I'd  ne'er  seen. 

"Go  ye,  and  tell  our  daughter  Meg, 

That  she 's  be  wived  the  morn ; 
And  I  will  to  this  young  gallant, 

And  see  what  he  perfcym."     ^ 

•  •••••• 

She  went  unto  her  daughter  Meg, 

Who  had  a  meikle  mouth; 
But  her  teeth  were  pearls,  and  her  honey  breath 

Was  like  the  wind  from  the  South. 

The  mother  sat  by  her  daughter's  side; 

"Sweet  Meg,  come  tell  me  this, 
Wouldst  thou  the  rather  be  a  bride. 

Then  live  in  singleness? 


690  2  4 


38  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Before  I  was  your  age,  I  trow, 

I  was  in  a  bride  her  place." 
"Aye,  mother,"  quo'  Meg,  and  sighed  full  sore, 

*'But  ye  had  a  well-faured  face. 

"But  you  shall  see  the  Ettrick  stream 

Run  thro'  the  dells  o'  Yarrow, 
Before  ye  hear  o'  an  offer  to  me. 

Or  a  man  to  be  my  marrow. 

"My  face  is  foul,  my  heart  is  large, 
.     A  kinder  none  there  is; 
And  must  I  pass  away  my  days, 
In  sullen  loneliness,'^" 

The  mother  told  her  of  young  Scott, 

And  waited  her  reply; 
"O  Mother,  I'd  rather  marry  him 

Than  ever  he  should  die! " 

But  the  tears  rose  welHng  from  their  spring. 

And  filled  her  cushat  eyes; 
"But,  Mother,  how  if  when  we're  wed. 

He  should  my  heart  despise?" 

"Oh,  marriage,"  quo'  the  wily  dame, 

"Is  not  that  hard  to  snoove. 
If  ye  should  marry  Willie  Scott, 

Ye '11  be  like  hand  and  glove." 


MEIKLE-MOUTIIED  MEG  39 

Sir  Gideon  entered  young  Scott's  dungeon; 

"Thy  death  is  at  my  hand, 
Ye  came  as  a  thief  in  the  dead  o'  night, 

And  stole  my  cows  from  my  land. 

*'But  I'll  give  ye  a  chance  for  life, 

For  all  ye  have  said  of  me, 
Either  to  marry  my  daughter  Meg, 

Or  hang  upon  yonder  tree. 

"And  the  boldest  Scott  on  the  Border  March, 

Shall  never  take  ye  down. 
Until  your  skeleton  is  seen 

And  ye  drop  away  bone  by  bone." 

"And  ye  would  spare  my  life,"  he  said, 

"For  all  ye  come  so  gleg. 
If  I  would  stoop  and  give  my  hand 

To  your  bonny  daughter  Meg? 

"Ye  are  the  Murray  of  Elibank, 

I  Scott  of  Oakwood  Tower, 
I  would  not  marry  your  daughter  Meg, 

Tho'  a  kingdom  were  her  dower; 

"But  Httle  I  fear  to  meet  my  death. 

As  I  do  to  tell  you  this; 
An  ye  had  fallen  in  my  hands. 

Such  were  your  fate,  I  wiss. 


40  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"  Ye  think  that  your  winsome  daughter  Meg," 

Oh !  he  spoke  so  scornfully,  — 
"Will  get  a  husband  at  the  last. 

But,  faith,  my  lad,  ye  lie, 

*'I  rather  choose  upon  the  gallows 

To  render  up  my  breath; 
I  trow  there  will  be  Scots  enough 

Left  to  revenge  my  death." 

"There  is  my  thumb,  thou  young  braggart,*' 

Sir  Gideon  chafing  cried, 
**I  would  n't  hinder  ye  your  choice 

For  death  shall  be  your  bride. 

"And  let  the  Scots  o'  a'  the  Border 
Revenge  your  death  that  dare." 

He  left  young  Scott  unto  himself. 
And  quit  his  dungeon  stair. 

YOUNG  Willie's  messenger 

It  was  about  the  midnight  time. 
When  his  dungeon  door  ga'ed  back; 

And  the  sentinel  who  guarded  it 
Let  in  a  woman  in  black. 

"What  want  ye  wi'  me,  fair  Maiden?" 

The  Scott  o'  Harden  said. 
"I  come  to  ask  if  thy  dying  wish 

Can  be  by  me  obeyed.'* 


MEIKLE-MOUTHED  MEG  41 

*'  I  am  a  lassie  o'  the  house, 

And  wait  on  Sir  Gideon's  dame; 
And  tho'  ye  have  refused  poor  Meg, 

Her  prayers  will  be  the  same." 

*'Why  has  Dame  Murray  sent  thee  here?**  — 

"She  has  a  woman's  heart. 
Ye  have  a  motlier  and  sisters  twain. 

From  whom  full  soon  ye  part. 

**If  ye  have  anything  to  say. 

Ye  would  have  carried  there, 
I  swear  by  all  that 's  good  on  earth. 

To  be  your  messenger." 

"Maiden,**  quo*  he,  and  his  voice  was  low, 

"Of  my  mother  do  not  speak; 
I  wish  to  die  as  my  father's  son, 

And  yet  her  heart  I  break." 


« 


It  cannot  be,"  then  said  the  girl, 
"Ye  have  rejected  Meg, 
Without  the  looking  on  her  face? 
I'm  sure  your  Hfe  she'd  beg." 

"I  have  not  seen,  but  I  have  heard 
Her  face  described  to  me; 

And,  by  my  faith,  between  the  two, 
I'll  chose  the  gallows-tree." 


42  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  tears  fell  from  that  poor  girl's  eyes. 

In  anger  or  in  spleen?  — 
And  ever  and  anon  she  sighed. 

And  deep  sobs  came  between. 

"Behke,"  quo'  she,  "  they've  painted  her 
Far  worse  than  she  may  look; 

Many  a  man  has  an  ugly  wife, 

That  the  gallows  could  not  brook." 


« 


I  have  no  wish  to  see  her  face. 
Far  less  to  marry  her; 
But  ye  seem  o'  a  kindly  heart. 
And  aibhns  are  as  fair. 


« 


So  let  me  see  your  face,  my  joy. 
And  by  your  countenance, 
I'll  see  if  I  dare  trust  you  with 
A  letter  for  my  chance?" 

She  threw  the  veil  from  off  her  face, 
"I'm  no  well  faured  I  know; 

But  kernels  lie  inside  hard  shells. 
And  gold  in  the  earth  below." 

*'So  sweet  and  sensible  ye  speak. 

Ye  almost  make  me  wish, 
Meikle-Mouthed  Meg  was  hke  to  you. 

So  kind,  so  young,  so  lish. ' 


MEIKLE-MOUTIIED  MEG  43 

He  held  the  hght  within  the  cruse 

Close  to  the  maiden's  face, 
Wi'  loof  o'er  e'en,  he  earnestly 

Perused  each  simple  grace. 

He  saw  her  face  was  fair  and  round, 

Her  lips  like  a  large  rose-leaf; 
And  her  snow-white  teeth  so  even  showed. 

Like  ivory  from  their  sheath. 

There  stood  a  tear  in  her  dove-blue  eye, 

Her  eye  so  mild  and  meek, 
A  large  tear  slowly  left  the  lid. 

And  trickled  down  her  cheek. 

**Ye  have  the  look  that  never  lied. 

And  tho'  no  fine  vour  face, 
YeVe  pleasing  sense  and  kindhness 

Wi'  every  modest  grace. 

"So  bring  to  me  the  writing  ink. 

The  paper  and  pen  so  fine; 
And  tho'  ye  abide  wa'  my  enemy. 

Ye '11  take  my  mother  a  line." 

She  rolled  it  up  so  carefully. 

The  letter  he  WTit  so  fair; 
She  had  no  silk,  but  she  tied  it  with 

A  lock  o'  her  golden  hair. 


44  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

THE   GALLOWS-TREE 

It  was  by  cock-crowing  the  morn, 

When  Meg  wi'  crippled  feet, 
Like  one  that  had  a  long  way  walked 

Came  in,  her  sire  to  greet. 

"Grant  me  another  day,"  she  cried, 
"For  young  WilHe  Scott  his  life; 

And  throw  not  by  the  chance,  your  Meg 
Has  to  become  a  wife." 

Sir  Gideon  rubbed  his  hands  in  glee, 

"I  grant  it  for  your  sake; 
But  if  he  then  refuse  your  hand. 

He  shall  his  own  way  take." 

Much  wondered  the  Laird  o'  Oakwood  Tower, 

As  fell  the  evening  gloom, 
They  did  not  hang  him  in  the  morn. 

As  he  had  heard  his  doom. 

He  heard  the  sentry  shoot  the  bolt, 

And  a  kind  o'  murmuring; 
And  then  his  mother  and  sisters  two 

Wi'  loud  outcries  break  in. 

And,  "O  my  Son!"  the  mother  cried, 

"Is  there  no  other  way. 
To  save  thee  from  a  cruel  death. 

At  the  hands  o'  a  fierce  Murray? 


MEIKLE-MOUTIIED  MEG  45 

"Marry  his  daughter,  Willie  dear, 

And  save  thy  mother's  life; 
Tho'  she  be  ugly  —  what  of  that? 

She'll  make  a  frugal  wife." 

"Mother,  I  will  not  take  his  terms. 

Who  brought  ye  here?"  he  said. 
"Who,  but  your  messenger  so  good. 

That  kind  and  sonsy  maid." 

They  passed  the  time  in  grief  and  woe, 

Throughout  the  dead  of  night; 
Nor  ever  they  ceased  to  weep  wi'  him, 

Until  the  morning's  light. 

The  loud  horn  blew  out  o'er  the  lea, 

Sir  Gideon  stood  him  before; 
"What  is  thy  choice,  young  man?"  he  cried, 

"Or  ere  this  deed  be  o'er." 

"The  gallows  still  before  the  wife," 

Young  Harden  stoutly  said. 
"And  wi'  the  hemp  around  my  throat, 

I'll  spit  on  the  ground  ye  tread." 

They  led  him  forth  to  the  gallows-tree; 

When  he  saw  that  maiden  there, 
W^ho  at  her  risk,  unto  his  mother 

Carried  his  last  letter; 


46  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  thoughts  o'  the  gallows  could  not  stir 
The  heart  o'  that  dauntless  Chief, 

But  the  weeping  look  of  that  young  girl. 
It  pierced  his  soul  wi'  grief. 

And  while  the  tear  hung  in  her  eye. 

He  took  her  lily  hand; 
And  said,  "  Thy  heart  is  far  too  meek. 

For  such  a  ruflSan  band. 

"Hear  me,  Murray,  speak  my  mind, 

I  care  not  for  thv  word, 
I'd  rather  marry  this  poor  maiden, 

If  should  my  life  be  spared, 


(t 


n 


Then  ever  I'd  wed  thy  daughter  Meg."  — 

Sir  Gideon  clapped  his  hand; 
A  bargain !  I  take  thee  at  thy  word, 

Young  Scott  where  dost  thou  stand.'* 


They  buckled  them  in  holy  bonds. 
The  priest  he  prayed  the  while; 

And  when  the  marriage  knot  was  tied, 
Sir  Gideon  blithe  did  smile. 

His  mother  fell  upon  his  neck, 
"God  bless  my   bairn,  he's  free! 

And  bless  the  bonny  lassie  yet. 
Who  brought  the  word  to  me!" 


BELTED  WILL  47 


»» 


**I  give  thee  a  father's  blessing,  sir, 

The  Murray  bhthely  cried; 
"For  what?"  —  The  lassie  modest  said, 

"Meikle-Mouthed  Meg  's  your  bride.'* 

Oh!  then  sore  shame  fell  on  the  Scott, 

And  tears  came  in  his  eyes; 
*'And  is  my  bride  the  scorned  Meg, 

That  I  did  so  despise? 

"Let  no  man  hate  what  he's  not  seen. 

The  shame  on  me  doth  lay :  — 

I  rose  this  morning  for  my  death, 

And  it  ends  in  my  bridal  day!" 

{Englished.  Condensed) 


BELTED  WILL 

THE  ROBBER  BARON 

The  Baron  of  Thirlwall  came  from  the  wars, 

Laden  with  treasure  bold; 
Among  the  which  a  fair  table, 

All  of  the  beaten  gold. 

And  men  will  speak  of  the  Baron's  wealth. 

Whatever  he  may  say, 
And  how  a  grizzly  Dwarf  does  guard 

His  treasure  night  and  day. 


48  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Many  a  Border  freebooter 
Eyed  Thirlwall's  good  Castle, 

Thinking  to  win  the  bags  of  gold. 
And  eke  the  fair  table. 

But  the  Baron  hath  retainers  bold. 
And  swatchers  many  ane. 

And  the  Castle  walls  are  high  to  win, 
Howe'er  they  fidge  and  fain. 

The  boldest  one  o'  a'  his  men, 
Was  Jockey  of  the  Sheugh; 

The  Baron  loved  him  like  a  brother. 
And  that  was  fair  enoo. 

Jock  could  wrestle,  run,  or  leap, 

Wi'  ever  a  living  man; 
Never  a  wight  in  Cumbernauld 

Could  beat  him  at  the  span. 

But  Thirlwall's  Baron  heeded  not 
The  word  o'  Belted  Will, 

Who  dwells  within  the  dark  Naworth, 
The  Border  March  to  still; 

He  can  rule  all  the  Border  round, 
Wi'  a  peeled  willow- wand; 

But  Thirlwall's  Baron  geeks  at  him. 
And  all  the  laws  o'  the  land. 


BELTED  WILL  49 

So  fast  come  tidings  of  ravin  wrong 

To  Belted  Willy's  ear; 
Quo'  he,  "By  my  belt,  I'll  trap  this  man, 

If  I  catch  him  in  effeir. 

**But  he  is  hke  a  wily  fox, 

That  taketh  to  his  hole. 
An  I  can  catch  him  on  the  turn, 

I  '11  smoke  him  from  his  bole. 

"He  reaves  and  harrows  every  one, 

Tho'  he  has  goups  o'  gold; 
I'll  lay  a  trap  for  liim  bedeen, 

By  which  he  shall  be  sold." 

Thirl  wall's  Baron  heard  his  speech, 

Wi'  scorn  almost  he  burst; 
"His  anger  it  is  hke  a  haggis. 

That's  hottest  at  the  first." 

Sore  smiled  the  wily  Belted  Will, 

But  in  so  dark  a  way; 
Better  that  smile  were  wanting  there, 

Than  on  his  lip  to  lay. 

THE  TRAP  O'  BELTED  WILL 

Jock  o'  the  Sheugh  tirled  at  the  string. 


« 


Of  the  Baron  of  Thirl  wall's  yett; 
Up,  up,  and  rise,  my  noble  Lord, 
Some  plunder  for  to  get. 


50  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

''There  are  a  swatch  o'  Enghshers 
Coming  from  Carlysle  town, 

Well  laden  wi'  the  yellow  gold, 
For  Annan  are  they  boun'." 

"Go,  take  a  dozen  o*  my  men, 

And  brattle  o'er  the  lea. 
Lay  wait,  and  watch  until  they  pass 

The  Bowness  Witches'  Tree. 

**A  dozen  o'  ye  well  may  lick 
Three  score  o'  English  tikes. 

Take  all  they  have,  and  leave  them  so 
To  tell  o'  this  who  hkes." 

Then  Jock  banged  o'er  the  broomy  knoll. 
And  reached  the  Witches'  Tree, 

And  wi'  his  dozen  freebooters. 
Lay  down  on  their  bellie. 

There  came  on  twenty  Enghshers, 

Wi'  cloaks  and  saddlebags; 
There  came  on  twenty  travellers, 

Mounted  on  goodly  nags. 

Came  on  those  twenty  travellers. 
With  long  cloaks  flowing  down. 

Came  on  these  twenty  travellers. 
All  thro'  the  yellow  broom. 


BELTED  WILL  51 

Then  started  up  Jock  and  his  men 

Wi'  such  an  awful  yell, 
Ye  might  have  heard  it  at  the  top 

Of  Skiddaw  or  Criffell. 

"  Come  off  your  nags,  ye  sorning  crew. 

Of  Southron  pock-puddings. 
Or  ye  shall  have  the  good  cold  steel. 

So  give  us  all  your  things!" 

"We'll  give  ye  that,"  said  one  o'  them, 

"Ye '11  no  forget,  I  wiss, 
This  many  a  day,  good  Jock  o'  the  Sheugh, 

And  that  my  bilHe  's  this ! " 

They  threw  the  cloaks  from  off  their  hides. 

And  back  and  breastplate  shone; 
They  grippit  their  swords,  the  first  blow  struck 

Was  echoed  with  a  groan. 

Good  faith !  but  Jock  had  found  his  match. 
For  the  Southrons  hacked  about; 

The  Thirlwall  boys  were  fain  to  fight. 
But  soon  put  to  the  route. 

Of  twelve  o'  Jock's  good  freebooters. 

But  three  fled  o'er  the  lea, 
The  other  nine  lay  still  enough 

Beside  the  Witches'  Tree. 


52  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Poor  Jock  is  down  upon  his  back, 

Wi'  a  fair  clour  on  the  head; 
His  billies  all  are  stiffening. 

And  three  o'  them  are  fled. 

Out  spoke  the  twenty  travellers, 
"Why,  Jock,  how's  this  of  a'. 

Ye  bid  us  to  a  meal,  good  faith. 
And  then  ye  run  awa'?" 

Quo'  Jock,  as  they  bound  fast  his  arms. 

And  raised  him  from  the  lea, 
"If  I  had  kenned  ye  were  Belted  Will's  men. 

The  Devil  might  stopped  ye  for  me!" 

THE  GRIZZLY  DWARF 

The  Baron  o'  Thirlwall  looked  abroad, 

From  out  his  strong  Castle, 
And  he  saw  three  men  come  posting  on. 

Out  o'er  the  fern  and  fell. 

"I  wad,"  said  he,  "they  run  a  race, 

A  thousand  merks  I  lay 
Upon  the  wight  in  the  red  jerkin. 

He  wins  the  race  this  day." 

The  three  men  burst  in  on  his  room, 
"My  Lord,"  then  each  one  said, 

"Jock  o'  the  Sheugh  is  wounded  fair. 
And  nine  good  fellows  dead." 


i 


BELTED  WILL  63 

The  dark  spot  flew  to  the  Baron's  cheek, 

"Ye  cowards,  one  and  all! 
Go,  join  your  bloody  billies  then, 

Whatever  may  befall!" 

He  struck  each  man  the  neck  intil. 

And  they  fell  on  the  floor; 
*'To  fly  without  a  single  blow. 

Shows  valour  to  be  poor! 

"If  Belted  Will  should  harm  a  hair 
O'  Jock  o'  the  Sheugh  his  head, 

I  '11  put  the  Border  in  such  a  blaze. 
Shall  make  him  flee  with  dread. 

"If  Jock  o'  the  Sheugh  hangs  for  this  play. 
The  whole  of  the  March  shall  weep. 

No  man  shall  waken  in  the  morn. 
That  goes  aUve  to  sleep." 

They  brought  these  words  to  Belted  Will 

As  at  racket-ball  he  played; 
But  the  only  answer  he  let  fall, 

"We'll  soon  see  that,"  he  said. 

By  Brampton's  town  there  stands  an  oak, 

Upon  a  hill  so  high; 
And  Jock  was  broughten  there  betimes 

Upon  the  tree  to  die. 


54  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

They  strapped  him  to  the  highest  branch 

Of  all  that  goodly  tree; 
And  there  the  righteous  chaplain  prayed 

For  Jock's  soul  solemnlie, 

Thirlwall's  Baron  saw  the  sight. 
And  swore  revenge  to  have; 

For  better  part  o'  a  summer's  day 
He  nothing  did  but  rave. 

He  sent  a  messenger  so  bold 
To  Will,  who  cried  in  scorn, 

"Better  he  looks  unto  his  nest, 
I'll  burn  it  ere  the  morn!" 

The  Baron  fled  to  his  Castle, 

And  guarded  it  so  grim, 
"The  fiend  take  Belted  Will,"  he  cried, 

"  'T  is  word  and  blow  wi'  him.'* 

But  scarcely  had  the  midnight  fell. 

When  spite  o'  a'  his  care. 
Belted  Will  his  Castle  stormed. 

For  a'  he  fought  so  fair. 

A  tar  barrel  and  reeking  peat. 

They  laid  unto  his  nest, 
Threw  open  gates  and  wide  windows. 

And  the  night  wind  did  the  rest. 


BELTED  WILL  65 

The  Baron  fled  from  room  to  room, 

By  the  flames  of  his  own  hall, 
"He's  gi'en  me  Hght  to  go  to  bed. 

Whatever  may  befall." 

He  rushed  into  his  inner  room. 

Where  his  golden  table  lay; 
The  Devil  in  likeness  o'  a  Dwarf 

Kept  watch  there  night  and  day. 

Belted  Will  pursued  liim  hard. 

Amid  the  flame  and  stour, 
For  he  cut  the  skirt  from  the  Baron's  cloak, 

As  he  whisked  through  the  door. 

"Save  me,  now,  thou  gruesome  Elf, 
And  my  soul  and  body's  thine!" 

The  Dwarf  he  jabbered  hideously, 
But  never  made  a  sign. 

Belted  Will  called  for  a  ram. 

To  bash  the  doorway  down; 
The  red  flames  thro'  the  keyhole  flashed. 

And  fifled  wi'  reek  the  room. 

"My  soul  and  body,"  the  Baron  said. 
Abjuring  Christ  His  sign;  . 

The  Devil  he  grippit  him  in  his  arms, 
"Now,  Baron,  art  thou  mine." 


56  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  door  ga'ed  splintering  from  the  posts, 

Li  rushed  the  enemy; 
But  Baron,  Dwarf,  and  gold  table, 

I  wat  they  could  ne'er  see. 

And  legexids  say  the  ugsome  Dwarf 

Threw  all  into  a  well, 
And  by  the  glamour  o'  his  art 

Cast  over  all  a  spell; 

"Which  never  may  be  rendered  vain 

But  by  a  Widow's  Son; 

And  he  shall  find  the  gold  table, 

When  years  away  have  run. 

Frederick  Sheldon.  (Condensed) 


BRAVE  HEARTS  AND  PROUD 


EARL  HALDAN'S  DAUGHTER 

A.D.  1400 

It  was  Earl  Haldans  daughter. 
She  looked  across  the  sea; 
She  looked  across  the  water. 
And  long  and  loud  laughed  she: 
"  The  locks  of  six  Princesses 
Must  be  my  marriage-fee. 
So  hey  bonny  boat,  and  ho  bonny  boat! 
Who  comes  a-wooing  me!" 

It  was  Earl  Haldans  daughter. 
She  walked  along  the  sand;         '  _ 
When  she  was  aware  of  a  Knight  so  fair. 
Come  sailing  to  the  land. 
His  sails  were  all  of  velvet. 
His  mast  of  beaten  gold. 
And  "hey  bonny  boat,  and  ho  bonny  boat,  '■ 
Who  saileth  here  so  bold?" 

"  The  locks  of  five  Princesses 
I  won  beyond  the  sea; 
I  shore  their  golden  tresses. 
To  fringe  a  cloak  for  thee. 
One  handful  yet  is  wanting. 
But  one  of  all  the  tale; 
So  hey  bonny  boat,  and  ho  bonny  boat! 
Furl  up  thy  velvet  sail! " , 

He  leapt  into  the  water. 
That  rover  young  and  bold; 
He  gript  Earl  Haldans  daughter. 
He  shore  her  locks  of  gold; 
*'  Go  weep,  go  weep,  proud  Maiden, 
The  tale  is  full  to-day. 
Now  hey  bonny  boat,  and  ho  bonny  boat! 
SaU  Westward  ho,  and  away!" 

Charles  Kingsley 


LADY  CLARE 

It  was  the  time  when  lilies  blow, 
And  clouds  are  highest  up  in  air, 

Lord  Ronald  brought  a  lily-white  doe 
To  give  his  cousin,  Lady  Clare. 

I  trow  they  did  not  part  in  scorn; 

Lovers  long-betrothed  were  they; 
They  two  will  wed  the  morrow  morn  — 

God's  blessing  on  the  day ! 

"He  does  not  love  me  for  my  birth, 
Nor  for  my  lands  so  broad  and  fair; 

He  loves  me  for  my  own  true  worth. 
And  that  is  well,"  said  Lady  Clare. 

Li  there  came  old  Alice  the  nurse. 

Said,  "Who  was  this  that  went  from  thee? 

*'It  was  my  cousin,"  said  Lady  Clare; 
"To-morrow  he  weds  with  me." 

**0  God  be  thanked!"  said  Alice  the  nurse, 
"That  all  comes  round  so  just  and  fair! 

Lord  Ronald  is  heir  of  all  your  lands. 
And  you  are  not  the  Lady  Clare." 


>» 


60  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

*'Are  ye  out  of  your  mind,  my  Nurse,  my  Nurse, 
Said  Lady  Clare,  "that  ye  speak  so  wild?" 

"As  God's  above,"  said  Alice  the  nurse, 
"I  speak  the  truth:  you  are  my  child. 

"The  old  Earl's  daughter  died  at  my  breast; 

I  speak  the  truth,  as  I  live  by  bread ! 
I  buried  her  like  my  own  sweet  child. 

And  put  my  child  in  her  stead.'* 

"Falsely,  falsely  have  ye  done, 

O  Mother,"  she  said,  "if  this  be  true. 

To  keep  the  best  man  under  the  sun 
So  many  years  from  his  due." 

"Nay  now,  my  Child,"  said  Alice  the  nurse, 
"But  keep  the  secret  for  your  hfe, 

And  all  you  have  will  be  Lord  Ronald's 
When  you  are  man  and  wife." 

"If  I'm  a  beggar  born,"  she  said, 
"I  will  speak  out,  for  I  dare  not  lie. 

Pull  off,  pull  off,  the  brooch  of  gold. 
And  fling  the  diamond  necklace  by.'* 

"Nay  now,  my  Child,"  said  Alice  the  nurse, 

"But  keep  the  secret  all  ye  can." 
She  said,  "Not  so;  but  I  will  know 

If  there  be  any  faith  in  man." 


LADY  CLARE  61 

**Nay  now,  what  faith?"  said  Alice  the  nurse; 

"The  man  will  cleave  unto  his  right." 
"And  he  shall  have  it,"  the  lady  rephed, 

"Tho'  I  should  die  to-night." 

"Yet  give  one  kiss  to  your  mother  dear! 

Alas,  my  Child,  I  sinned  for  thee!" 
"O  Mother,  Mother,  Mother,"  she  said, 

"So  strange  it  seems  to  me. 

"Yet  here's  a  kiss  for  my  mother  dear. 

My  mother  dear,  if  this  be  so. 
And  lay  your  hand  upon  my  head, 

And  bless  me.  Mother,  ere  I  go." 

She  clad  herself  in  a  russet  gown, 

She  was  no  longer  Lady  Clare; 
She  went  by  dale,  and  she  went  by  down. 

With  a  single  rose  in  her  hair. 

The  lily-white  doe  Lord  Ronald  had  brought 

Leapt  up  from  where  she  lay, 
Dropt  her  head  in  the  maiden's  hand, 

And  followed  her  all  the  way. 

Down  stept  Lord  Ronald  from  his  tower: 
"O  Lady  Clare,  you  shame  your  worth! 

Why  come  you  drest  like  a  village  maid, 
That  are  the  flower  of  the  earth?" 


62  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"If  I  come  drest  like  a  village  maid, 

I  am  but  as  my  fortunes  are; 
I  am  a  beggar  born,"  she  said, 

"And  not  the  Lady  Clare." 

"Play  me  no  tricks,"  said  Lord  Ronald, 
"For  I  am  yours  in  word  and  in  deed. 

"Play  me  no  tricks,"  said  Lord  Ronald, 
"Your  riddle  is  hard  to  read." 

Oh,  and  proudly  stood  she  up! 

Her  heart  within  her  did  not  fail; 
She  looked  into  Lord  Ronald's  eyes. 

And  told  him  all  her  nurse's  tale. 

He  laughed  a  laugh  of  merry  scorn; 

He  turned,  and  kissed  her  where  she  stood; 
"If  you  are  not  the  heiress  born. 

And  I,"  said  he,  "the  next  in  blood,  — 

"If  you  are  not  the  heiress  born. 

And  I,"  said  he,  "the  lawful  heir, 
We  two  will  wed  to-morrow  morn. 

And  you  shall  still  be  Lady  Clare." 

Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson 

PROUD  LADY  MARGARET 

Fair  Margret  was  a  young  ladye. 

An  come  of  high  degree; 
Fair  Margret  was  a  young  ladye, 

An  proud  as  proud  coud  be. 


PROUD  LADY  IVLVRGARET  63 

Fair  Margret  was  a  rich  ladye. 

The  king's  cousin  was  she; 
Fair  Margaret  was  a  rich  ladye. 

An  vain  as  vain  coud  be. 

She  war'd  her  wealth  on  the  gay  cleedin 

That  comes  frae  yont  the  sea, 
She  spent  her  time  frae  morning  till  night 

Adorning  her  fair  bodye. 

Ae  night  she  sate  in  her  stately  ha, 

Kaimin  her  yellow  hair. 
When  in  there  cum  like  a  gentle  knight. 

An  a  white  scarf  he  did  wear. 

"0  what's  your  will  wi  me,  sir  knight, 

O  what's  your  will  wi  me? 
You  're  the  likest  to  my  ae  brother 

That  ever  I  did  see. 

"You're  the  hkest  to  my  ae  brother 

That  ever  I  hae  seen, 
But  he's  buried  in  Dunfermline  kirk, 

A  month  an  mair  bygane." 

"I'm  the  likest  to  your  ae  brother 

That  ever  ye  did  see, 
But  I  canna  get  rest  into  my  grave, 

A'  for  the  pride  of  thee. 


64  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Leave  pride,  Margret,  leave  pride,  Margret, 

Leave  pride  an  vanity; 
Ere  ye  see  the  sights  that  I  hae  seen, 

Sair  altered  ye  maun  be. 

"0  ye  come  in  at  the  kirk-door 
Wi  the  gowd  plaits  in  your  hair; 

But  wud  ye  see  what  I  hae  seen, 
Ye  maun  them  a'  forbear. 

**0  ye  come  in  at  the  kirk-door 
Wi  the  gowd  prins  i  your  sleeve; 

But  wad  ye  see  what  I  hae  seen. 
Ye  maun  gie  them  a'  their  leave. 

"Leave  pride,  Margret,  leave  pride,  Margret, 

Leave  pride  an  vanity; 
Ere  ye  see  the  sights  that  I  hae  seen, 

Sair  altered  ye  maun  be." 

He  got  her  in  her  stately  ha, 

Kaimin  her  yellow  hair. 
He  left  her  on  her  sick  sick  bed, 

Sheding  the  saut  saut  tear. 


FAMOUS  FLOWER  OF  SERVING-MEN   65 

THE  FAMOUS  FLOWER  OF  SERVING- 
MEN 

PART  I 

You  beautious  ladies,  great  and  small, 
I  write  unto  you  one  and  all, 
Whereby  that  you  may  understand 
What  I  have  suffered  in  this  land. 

I  was  by  birth  a  lady  fair, 

My  father's  chief  and  onely  heir, 

But  when  my  good  old  father  dy'd. 

Then  was  I  made  a  young  knight's  bride. 

And  then  my  love  built  me  a  bower, 
Bedeckt  with  many  a  fragrant  flower; 
A  braver  bower  you  never  did  see 
Then  my  true-love  did  build  for  me. 

But  there  came  thieves  late  in  the  night, 
They  rob'd  my  bower,  and  slew  my  knight, 
And  after  that  my  knight  was  slain, 
I  could  no  longer  there  remain. 

My  servants  all  from  me  did  flye, 

In  the  midst  of  my  extremity. 

And  left  me  by  my  self  alone, 

With  a  heart  more  cold  then  any  stone. 


66  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Yet,  though  my  heart  was  full  of  care, 
Heaven  would  not  sufiFer  me  to  despair; 
Wherefore  in  hast  I  chang'd  my  name 
From  Fair  Ehse  to  Sweet  William. 

And  therewithal  I  cut  my  hair, 
And  drest  my  self  in  man's  attire, 
My  doublet,  hose,  and  bever-hat. 
And  a  golden  band  about  my  neck. 

With  a  silver  rapier  by  my  side. 
So  like  a  gallant  I  did  ride; 
The  thing  that  I  dehghted  on. 
Was  for  to  be  a  serving-man. 

Thus  in  my  sumptuous  man's  array 
I  bravely  rode  along  the  way; 
And  at  the  last  it  chanced  so 
That  I  unto  the  king's  court  did  go. 

Then  to  the  king  I  bowed  full  low. 

My  love  and  duty  for  to  show, 

And  so  much  favour  I  did  crave 

That  I  a  serving-man's  place  might  have. 

"Stand  up,  brave  youth,"  the  king  replyd, 
"Thy  service  shall  rot  be  denyd; 
But  tell  me  first  what  thou  canst  do; 
Thou  shalt  be  fitted  thereunto. 


FAMOUS  FLOWER  OF  SERVING-MEN   67 

"Wilt  thou  be  usher  of  my  hall, 
To  wait  upon  my  nobles  all? 
Or  wilt  thou  be  taster  of  my  wine, 
To  wait  on  me  when  I  shall  dine? 

"Or  wilt  thou  be  my  chamberlain. 
To  make  my  bed  both  soft  and  fine? 
Or  wilt  thou  be  one  of  my  guard? 
And  I  will  give  thee  thy  reward." 

Sweet  William,  with  a  smiling  face, 
Said  to  the  king,  "If  't  please  your  grace 
To  show  such  favour  unto  me. 
Your  chamberlain  I  fain  would  be."    ' 

The  king  then  did  the  nobles  call, 
To  ask  the  counsel  of  them  all. 
Who  gave  consent  Sweet  William  he 
The  king's  own  chamberlain  should  be. 

PART  II 

Now  mark  what  strange  things  came  to  pass : 
As  the  king  one  day  a  hunting  was. 
With  all  his  lords  and  noble  train, 
Sweet  WiUiam  did  at  home  remain. 

Sweet  William  had  no  company  then 
With  him  at  home  but  an  old  man; 
And  when  he  saw  the  coast  was  clear. 
He  took  a  lute  which  he  had  there. 


68  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Upon  the  lute  Sweet  William  plaid, 
And  to  the  same  he  sung  and  said, 
With  a  pleasant  and  most  noble  voice, 
Which  made  the  old  man  to  re  Joyce: 

My  father  was  as  brave  a  lord 
As  ever  Europe  did  afford; 
My  mother  was  a  lady  bright, 
My  husband  was  a  valiant  knight. 

And  I  my  self  a  lady  gay, 
Bedeckt  with  gorgeous  rich  array; 
The  bravest  lady  in  the  land 
Had  not  more  pleasures  to  command. 

I  had  my  musick  every  day. 
Harmonious  lessons  for  to  play; 
I  had  my  virgins  fair  and  free. 
Continually  to  wait  on  me. 

But  now,  alas!  my  husband  *s  dead. 
And  all  my  friends  are  from  me  fled; 
My  former  joys  are  past  and  gone. 
For  now  I  am  a  serving-man. 

At  last  the  king  from  hunting  came. 
And  presently  upon  the  same 
He  called  for  the  good  old  man, 
And  thus  to  speak  the  king  began. 


FAMOUS  FLOWER  OF  SERVING-MEN    69 

"What  news,  what  news,  old  man?"  quod  he; 
"What  news  hast  thou  to  tell  to  me?" 
"Brave  news,"  the  old  man  he  did  say; 
"Sweet  William  is  a  lady  gay." 

"  If  this  be  true  thou  tellest  me 
I  'le  make  thee  a  lord  of  high  degree; 
But  if  thy  words  do  prove  a  lye, 
Thou  shalt  be  hanged  up  presently.'* 

But  when  the  king  the  truth  had  found. 
His  joys  did  more  and  more  abound; 
According  as  the  old  man  did  say, 
Sweet  William  was  a  lady  gay. 

Therefore  the  king  without  delay 
Put  on  her  glorious  rich  array, 
And  upon  her  head  a  crown  of  gold, 
Which  was  most  famous  to  behold. 

And  then,  for  fear  of  further  strife. 
He  took  Sweet  William  for  his  wife; 
The  like  before  was  never  seen, 
A  serving-man  to  be  a  queen. 


70  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

COCHRANE'S  BONNY  GRIZZY 

PART  I 

Listen,  now,  both  great  and  simple, 

Whilst  I  croon  to  you  my  song^ 
Ere  such  another  damsel  'pears. 

The  world  will  cease  to  wag  ere  long: 
For  she  is  the  flower  o'er  all  the  bower, 
My  blessings  on  Cochrane' s  Bonny  Grizzyl 

Her  father  lay  long  in  the  Embro  jail. 

Wearing  fast  to  his  end. 
For  his  head  must  be  swept  clean  from  his  shoul- 
ders. 

When  the  warrant  the  King  shall  send; 
Singing  "Woes  me!"  wi'  the  tear  in  her  e'e, 
Did  Cochrane' s  bonny  daughter  mourn! 

She  kissed  her  father's  lyart  locks. 

Unkempt  for  many  a  day. 
And  she  said,  "To  save  my  father's  life, 

I  aiblins  ken  a  way: 
Give  me  thy  love,  that  I  fortune  prove?" 
Quo'  Cochrane' s  bonny  daughter! 

She  rode  away  thro'  the  stragglling  town. 

Of  beggart  Hadingtown, 
Syne  by  Dunbar,  thro'  Coppersmith, 

Till  to  Berwick  she  has  come: 


COCIIRANE'S  BONNY  GRIZZY       71 

And  she  rapped  right  loud  on  the  barred  gates, 
Did  Cochrane  s  bonny  daughter! 

She  slept  all  night  and  she  rose  betimes, 
And  crossed  the  long  bridge  of  the  Tweed; 

And  over  the  moor  at  Tweedmouth  brae. 
Sore  draggit  was  her  woman's  weed; 

And  lightin'  down  by  Haggerston  Shaws, 

Did  Cochrane'' s  Bonny  Grizzy! 

A  cloak  she  drew  from  her  saddlebag. 

With  trunks  and  a  doublet  fair; 
She  cut  off  with  a  folding  knife. 

Her  long  and  raven  hair; 
And  she  dressed  herself  in  laddie's  clothes, 
Did  Cochrane' s  Bonny  Grizzy! 

The  horseman  rode  into  Belford  town. 

Who  carried  the  London  mail, 
Bold  Grizzy  she  sought  the  hostel  out, 

And  there  with  a  couthy  tale. 
Forgathered  with  the  London  Post, 
Did  Cochrane' s  Bonny  Grizzy! 

She  roared  the  loudest  of  them  a', 
Quo'  the  fellow,  "My  canty  chiel, 

Deil  blaw  my  pipes!  yere  the  crack  o'  the  wa', 
And  the  best  amang  the  hail! " 

In  the  dead  of  night  did  they  go  to  their  beds. 

And  so  did  Cochrane' s  daughter! 


72  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

She  rose  over  the  bed  ere  the  second  cock. 

Went  jimply  along  the  floor; 
She's  stown  her  father's  death  warrant, 

Whilst  the  lubber  loud  did  snore. 
She 's  gained  the  hills  ere  the  hue  and  cry 
They  raised  on  Cochrane' s  daughter! 

PART  II 

But  the  King  can  write  another  brief, 

For  all  the  first  be  stown ; 
And  once  again  the  fellow  rode, 

With  the  warrant  from  London  town. 
Now  out  and  alas!  What  can  she  do? 
For  the  heart  of  Grizzy  sank! 

The  red  sun  went  down  o'er  the  sea, 
And  the  wind  blew  stiff  and  snell. 

And  as  it  shot  by  Grizzy 's  lugs, 
It  sounded  old  Cochrane's  knell. 

"But  downa  despair,  't  is  a  kittle  carle!" 

Said  Cochrane'' s  Bonny  daughter! 


The  larch  and  the  tall  fir  shrieked  with  pain,  1 

As  they  bent  before  the  wind,  f 

And  down  there  fell  the  heavy  rain,  i 

Till  sense  and  eyes  were  blind; 

**  A  lang  night  't  is  ne'er  sees  a  day," 

Quo'  Cochrane's  undaunted  Grizzy! 


COCHRANE'S  BONNY  GRIZZY       73 

The  Warlocks  are  dancing  threesome  reels, 

On  Goswick's  haunted  links, 
The  red  fire  shoots  by  Ladythorne, 

And  Tarn  wi'  the  Lanthorne  falls  and  sinks. 
On  Kyloe's  hills  there's  awful  sounds, 
But  they  frighted  not  Cochrane  s  Grizzy! 

The  moon  beams  shot  from  the  troubled  sky, 

In  glints  of  flickering  light, 
The  horseman  came  skelping  thro'  the  mire, 

For  his  mind  was  in  affright: 
His  pistol  cocked  he  held  in  his  hand. 
But  the  sient  a  fear  had  Grizzy  1 

As  he  came  foments  the  Fenwicke  woods, 
From  the  w^hin-bushes  shot  out  a  flame; 

His  dappled  filly  reared  up  in  affright. 
And  backward  over  he  came; 

There's  a  hand  on  his  craig,  and  a  foot  on 
his  mouth, 

*r  was  Cochrane' s  Bonny  Grizzy! 

*'I  will  not  take  thy  hfe,"  she  said, 

"But  give  me  thy  London  news; 
No  blood  of  thine  shall  syle  my  blad. 

Gin  me  ve  dinna  refuse:" 
She 's  prie'd  the  warrant,  and  away  she  flew, 
With  the  speed  arid  strength  of  the  wild  curlew! 


74  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Love  will  make  a  foe  grow  kind, 

Love  will  bring  blossom  where  bud  is  naught. 
Love  hath  softened  a  kingly  mind, 

Grizzy  hath  mercy  to  councillors  taught. 
Her  friends  at  Court  have  prieven  the  life 
0'  Grizzy' s  banished  father! 

She's  wedded  unto  a  German  Knight, 
Her  bairnies  blithe  with  her  sire  remain. 

She's  cast  the  laddie's  clouts  away, 
And  her  raven  hair  is  growing  again. 

What  think  ye,  gentles  o'  every  degree, 

Of  Cochrane' s  Bonny  Grizzy? 

{Englished) 


THE  GREETING  OF  KYNAST 

She  said,  "This  narrow  chamber  is  not  for  me 
the  place," 
Said  the  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast! 
*"T  is  pleasanter  on  horseback,  I'll  hie  me  to  the 
chase," 
Said  the  Lady  Kunigunde! 

She  said,  "The  Knight  who  weds  me,  I  do  require 

of  him," 
Said  the  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast! 
"To  gallop  round  the  Kynast  and  break  not  neck 

nor  limb." 


THE  GREETING  OF  KYNAST        75 

A  noble  Knight  came  forward  and  galloped  round 
tlie  wall; 
The  Lady  Kunigimde  of  Kynast, 
The  lady  without  Hfting  a  finger  saw  him  fall. 

And  yet  another  galloped  around  the  battlement; 

The  Lady  Kunigunde, 
The  lady  saw  him  tumble,  yet  did  she  not  relent. 

And  rider  after  rider  spurred  round  his  snorting 

horse ; 
The  Lady  Kunigunde 
Saw  him  vanish  o'er  the  rampart,  and  never  felt 

remorse. 

Long  time  the  folly  lasted,  then  came  no  rider 

more; 
The  Lady  Kunigunde, 
They  would  not  ride  to  win  her,  the  trial  was  too 

sore. 

She  stood  upon  her  towers,  she  looked  upon  the 
land, 
The  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast: 
"I'm  all  alone  at  home  here,  will  no  one  seek  my 
hand? 

*'Is  there  none  will  ride  to  win  me,  to  win  me  for 
his  bride, 
The  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast? 


76  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Oh  fie!  the  paltry  rider  who  dreads  the  bridal 
ride!" 

Then  out  and  spake  from  Thliringen  the  Land- 
grave Adelbert, 
"The  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast! 

Well  may  the  haughty  damsel  her  worthiness  as- 
sert." 

He  trains  his  horse  to  gallop  on  narrow  walls  of 

stone ; 
The  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast! 
"The  lady  shall  not  see  us  break  neck  or  limb  or 

bone. 

**See  here,  O  noble  Lady,  I'm  he  that  dares  the 

ride!" 
The  Lady  Kunigunde, 
She  looks  in  thoughtful  silence,  to  see  him  sit  in 

pride. 

She  saw  him  now  make  ready,  then  trembled  she 

and  sighed 
The  Lady  Kunigunde: 
"  Woe 's  me  that  I  so  fearful  have  made  the  bridal 

ride!" 

Then  rode  he  round  the  Kynast;  her  face  she 
turned  away, 
The  Lady  Kunigunde: 


THE  GREETING  OF  KYNAST        77 

"Woe's  me,  the  Knight  is  riding  down  to  his 
grave  to-day!" 

He  rides  around  the  Kynast,  right  round  the 
narrow  wall; 
The  Lady  Kunigunde! 
She  cannot  stir  for  terror  her  Hly  hand  at  all. 

He  rides  around  the  Kynast,  clear  round    the 

battlement; 
The  Lady  Kunigunde! 
As  if  a  breath  might  kill  him,  she  held  her  breath 

suspent. 

He  rode  around  the  Kynast  and  straight  to  her 

rode  he; 
Said  the  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast: 
"Thanks  be  to  God  in  Heaven,  who  gave  thy  life 

to  thee! 

"  Thanks  be  to  God  that  into  thy  grave  thou  didst 

not  ride!" 
Said  the  Lady  Kunigunde: 
"Come  down  from  off  thy  horse  now,  O  Knight, 

unto  thy  bride!" 

Then  spake  the  noble  rider,  and  greeted,  as  he  sate. 

The  Lady  Kunigunde: 
"Oh,  trust  a  Knight  for  horsemanship!  well  have 
I  taught  thee  that. 


78  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"  Now  wait  till  comes  another  who  can  the  same 

thing  do, 
O  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast! 
I've  wife  and  cliild  already,  can  be  no  spouse 

for  you ! " 

He  gave  his  steed  the  spur,  now;  rode  back  the 

way  he  came; 
The  Lady  Kunigunde! 
The  lady  saw  him  vanish,  she  swooned  with  scorn 

and  shame. 

And  she  remains  a  virgin,  her  pride  had  such  a 

fall. 
The  Lady  Kunigunde! 
Changed  to  a  wooden  image  she  stands  in  sight  of 

all. 

An  image,  like  a  hedgehog,  with  spines  for  hair, 

is  now 
The  Lady  Kunigunde  of  Kynast! 
The  stranger  has  to  kiss  it,  who  climbs  the  Ky- 

nast's  brow. 

We  bring  it  him  to  kiss  it;  and  if  it  shocks  his  pride. 

The  Lady  Kunigunde  Kynast! 

He  must  pay  down  his  forfeit,  who  will  not  kiss  the 

bride, 

The  Lady  Kunigunde ! 

Charles  T.  Brooks,  from  Riickert 


LAYS  O'  FAERIE 


THE  FAIRY  TEMPTER 

A  fair  girl  was  sitting  in  the  greenwood  shade, 

List'ning  to  the  music  the  spring  birds  made; 

When  sweeter  by  far  than  the  birds  on  the  tree, 

A  voice  murmured  near  her,  "Oh!  come.  Love,  with  me  — 

In  earth  or  air, 

A  thing  so  fair 

I  have  not  seen  as  thee! 
Then  come.  Love,  with  me." 

"  With  a  star  for  thy  home,  in  a  palace  of  light. 
Thou  wilt  add  afresh  grace  to  the  beauty  of  night; 
Or,  if  wealth  be  thy  wish,  thine  are  treasures  untold, 
I  will  show  thee  the  birthplace  of  jewels  and  gold  — 

And  pearly  caves 

Beneath  the  waves. 

All  these,  all  these  are  thine. 
If  thou  wilt  be  mine." 

Thus  whispered  a  Fairy  to  tempt  the  fair  girl. 
But  vain  was  his  promise  of  gold  and  of  pearl: 
For  she  said,  "  Tho'  thy  gifts  to  a  poor  girl  were  dear. 
My  father,  my  mother,  my  sisters  are  here: 
Oh!  what  would  be 
Thy  gifts  to  me 
Of  earth,  and  sea,  and  air. 
If  my  heart  were  not  there?" 

Samuel  Lover 


ALICE  BRAND 
I 

Merry  it  is  in  the  good  Greenwood, 
When  the  mavis  and  merle  are  singing, 

When  the  deer  sweeps  by,  and  the  hounds  are 
m  cry. 
And  the  hunter's  horn  is  ringing. 

**0  AHce  Brand,  my  native  land 

Is  lost  for  love  of  you; 
And  we  must  hold  by  wood  and  wold,     . 

As  outlaws  wont  to  do. 

*'0  Alice,  *t  was  all  for  thy  locks  so  bright, 
And  't  was  all  for  thine  eyes  so  blue, 

That  on  the  night  of  our  luckless  flight, 
Thy  brother  bold  I  slew. 

"Now  must  I  teach  to  hew  the  beech. 

The  hand  that  held  the  glaive, 
For  leaves  to  spread  our  lowly  bed. 

And  stakes  to  fence  our  cave. 

**And  for  vest  of  pall,  thy  fingers  small, 

That  wont  on  harp  to  straj^ 
A  cloak  must  sheer  from  the  slaughtered  deer, 

To  keep  the  cold  away."  — 


82  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"O  Richard!  if  my  brother  died, 

'T  was  but  a  fatal  chance; 
For  darkhng  was  the  battle  tried. 

And  fortune  sped  the  lance. 

*'If  pall  and  vair  no  more  I  wear. 

Nor  thou  the  crimson  sheen, 
As  warm,  we  '11  say,  is  the  russet  grey. 

As  gay  the  forest  green. 

"And,  Richard,  if  our  lot  be  hard. 

And  lost  thy  native  land. 
Still  Alice  has  her  own  Richard, 

And  he  his  Alice  Brand." 

II 

*T  IS  merry,  't  is  merry,  in  good  Greenwood, 
So  blithe  Lady  Alice  is  singing; 

On  the  beech's  pride,  and  oak's  brown  side. 
Lord  Richard's  axe  is  ringing. 

Up  spoke  the  moody  Elfin  King, 
Who  woned  within  the  hill,  — 

Like  wind  in  the  porch  of  a  ruined  church. 
His  voice  was  ghostly  shrill. 

"Why  sounds  yon  stroke  on  beech  and  oak. 
Our  moonlight  circle's  screen? 

Or  who  comes  here  to  chase  the  deer. 
Beloved  of  our  Elfin  Queen? 


ALICE  BRAND  83 

Or  who  may  dare  on  wold  to  wear 
The  Fairies'  fatal  green? 

"Up,  Urgan,  up!  to  yon  mortal  hie, 

For  thou  wert  christened  man; 
For  cross  or  sign  thou  wilt  not  fly, 

For  muttered  word  or  ban. 

"Lay  on  him  the  curse  of  the  withered  heart. 

The  curse  of  the  sleepless  eye; 
Till  he  wish  and  pray  that  his  life  would  part. 

Nor  yet  find  leave  to  die." 

Ill 

'T  IS  merry,  't  is  merry,  in  good  Greenwood, 
Though  the  birds  have  stilled  their  singing; 

The  evening  blaze  doth  Alice  raise. 
And  Richard  is  fagots  bringing. 

Up  Urgan  starts,  that  hideous  Dwarf, 

Before  Lord  Richard  stands, 
And,  as  he  crossed  and  blessed  himself, 
"I  fear  not  sign,"  quoth  the  grisly  Elf, 

"That  is  made  with  bloody  hands." 

But  out  then  spoke  she,  Alice  Brand 

That  woman  void  of  fear,  — 
"And  if  there's  blood  upon  his  hand, 

'T  is  but  the  blood  of  deer."  — 


84  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

*'Now  loud  thou  liest,  thou  bold  of  mood! 

It  cleaves  unto  his  hand, 
The  stain  of  thine  own  kindly  blood. 

The  blood  of  Ethert  Brand." 

Then  forward  stepped  she,  Alice  Brand, 

And  made  the  holy  sign : 
*'And  if  there's  blood  on  Richard's  hand, 

A  spotless  hand  is  mine. 

"And  I  conjure  thee,  Demon  Elf, 

By  Him  whom  Demons  fear, 
To  show  us  whence  thou  art  thyself, 

And  what  thine  errand  here?" 

"  'T  is  merry,  't  is  merry,  in  Fairyland, 
When  Fairy  Birds  are  singing. 

When  the  Court  doth  ride  by  their  Mon- 
arch's side. 
With  bit  and  bridle  ringing: 

"And  gaily  shines  the  Fairyland  — 

But  all  is  glistening  show. 
Like  the  idle  gleam  that  December's  beam 

Can  dart  on  ice  and  snow. 

"And  fading,  like  that  varied  gleam. 

Is  our  inconstant  shape, 
Who  now  like  Knight  and  Lady  seem. 

And  now  like  Dwarf  and  Ape. 


"  I  FEAR  NOT  SIGN,"  QUOTH  THE  GRISLY  ELF, 


THAT  IS  MADE  WITH  BLOODY  HANDS 


ALICE  BRAND  85 

**It  was  between  the  night  and  day, 
When  the  Fairy  King  has  pov,  er, 
That  I  sunk  down  in  a  sinful  fray, 
And  'twixt  hfe  and  death,  was  snatched  away 
To  the  joyless  Elfin  Bower. 

"But  wist  I  of  a  woman  bold. 

Who  thrice  my  brow  durst  sign, 
I  might  regain  my  mortal  mould, 

As  fair  a  form  as  thine." 

She  crossed  him  once,  she  crossed  him  twice  — 

That  Lady  was  so  brave; 
The  fouler  grew  his  goblin  hue. 

The  darker  grew  the  cave. 

She  crossed  him  thrice,  that  Lady  bold ; 

He  rose  beneath  her  hand 
The  fairest  Knight  on  Scottish  mould 

Her  brother,  Ethert  Brand ! 

Merry  it  is  in  good  Greenwood, 

When  the  mavis  and  merle  are  singing. 

But  merrier  were  they  in  Dunfermline  grey. 
When  all  the  bells  were  ringing. 

Sir  Waller  Scott 


86  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

THE  ERL-KING 

Oh  !  who  rides  by  night  thro'  the  woodland  so  wild? 
It  is  the  fond  father  embracing  his  child; 
And  close  the  boy  nestles  within  his  loved  arm. 
To  hold  himself  fast  and  to  keep  himself  warm. 

*'0  Father,  see  yonder!  see  yonder!"  he  says: 
*'  My  boy,  upon  what  dost  thou  fearfully  gaze?  "  — 
"Oh!  'tis  the  Erl-Ejng  with  his  crown  and  his 

shroud,"  — 
"No,  my  Son,  it  is  but  a  dark  wreath  of  the  cloud." 

THE  ERL-KING  SPEAKS 

"0/t/  come  and  go  with  me,  thou  loveliest  child; 
By  many  a  gay  sport  shall  thy  time  he  beguiled; 
My  mother  keeps  for  thee  full  many  a  fair  toy. 
And  many  a  fine  flower  shall  she  pluck  for  my  boy.*^ 

"O  Father,  my  Father!  and  did  you  not  hear 
The  Erl-King  whisper  so  low  in  my  ear?"  — 
"Be  still,  my  heart's  darling  —  my  cliild,  be  at 

ease; 
It  was  but  the  wild  blast  as  it  sung  thro'  the 

trees." 

THE  ERL-KING  SPEAKS  AGAIN 

"Oht  wilt  thou  go  with  me,  thou  loveliest  boy? 
My  daughter  shall  tend  thee  with  care  and  with  joy; 


THE  FAIRY  THORN  87 

She  shall  bear  thee  so  lightly  thro*  wet  and  thro*  ivild. 
And  press  thee  and  kiss  thee  and  sing  to  my  child.'* 

"O  Father,  my  Father,  and  saw  you  not  plain, 
The  Erl-King's  pale  daughter  ghde  past  thro'  the 

rainr    — 
"Oh,  yes,  my  loved  treasure,  I  knew  it  full  soon: 
It  was  the  grey  willow  that  danced  to  the  moon." 

THE  ERL-KING  SPEAKS  AGAIN 

*'0h!  come  and  go  with  me,  no  longer  delay. 
Or  else,  silly  child,  I  will  drag  thee  away."  — 

"O  Father!  O  Father!  now,  now  keep  your  hold, 
The  Erl-Kjng  has_seized  me  —  his  grasp  is  so 
cold!" 

Sore  trembled  the  father;  he  spurred  thro'  the 

wild, 

Clasping  close  to  his  bosom  his  shuddering  child ; 

He  reaches  his  dwelling  in  doubt  and  in  dread, 

But,  clasped  to  his  bosom,  the  infant  was  dead! 

.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  from  Goethe 

THE  FAIRY  THORN 

AN  ULSTER  BALLAD 

"Get  up,  our  Anna  dear, from  the  weary  spinning- 
wheel  ; 
For  your  father  *s  on  the  hill,  and  your  mother 
is  asleep: 


88  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Come  up  above  the  crags,  and  we  '11  dance  a  high- 
land reel 
Around  the  Fairy  Thorn  on  the  steep." 

At  Anna  Grace's  door  't  was  thus  the  maidens 
cried, 

Three  merry  maidens  fair  in  kirtles  of  the  green; 
And  Anna  laid  the  rock  and  the  weary  wheel  aside. 

The  fairest  of  the  four,  I  ween. 

They're  glancing  thro'  the  glimmer  of  the  quiet 
eve. 
Away  in  milky  wavings  of  neck  and  ankle  bare; 
The  heavy-sliding  stream  in  its  sleepy  song  they 
leave. 
And  the  crags  in  the  ghostly  air: 

And  linking  hand  in  hand,  and  singing  as  they  go. 
The  maids  along  the  hill-side  have  ta'en  their 
fearless  way 
Till  they  come  to  where  the  Rowan  Trees  in  lonely 
beauty  grow 
Beside  the  Fairy  Hawthorn  grey. 

The  Hawthorn  stands  between  the  ashes  tall  and 
slim, 
Like  matron  with  her  twin  grand-daughters  at 
her  knee; 
The  Rowan  berries  cluster  o'er  her  low  head  grey 
and  dim. 
In  ruddy  kisses  sweet  to  see. 


THE  FAIRY  THORN  89 

The  merry  maidens  four  have  ranged  them  in  a 
row, 
Between  each  lovely  couple  a  stately  Rowan 
stem, 
And  away  in  mazes  wavy  hke  skimming  birds 
they  go, 
Oh,  never  carolled  bird  like  them! 

But  solemn  is  the  silence  of  the  silvery  haze 
That  drinks  away  their  voices  in  echoless  repose. 

And  dreamily  the  evening  has  stilled  the  haunted 
braes. 
And  dreamier  the  gloaming  grows. 

And  sinking  one  by  one,  hke  lark-notes  from  the 
sky 
When  the  falcon's  shadow  saileth  across  the 
open  shaw, 
Are  hushed  the  maidens'  voices  as  cowering  down 
they  he 
In  the  flutter  of  their  sudden  awe. 

For,  from  the  air  above,  and  the  grassy  ground  be- 
neath 
And  from  the  Mountain  Ashes  and  the  old 
Whitethorn  between, 
A  power  of  faint  Enchantment  doth  through  their 
beings  breathe 
And  they  sink  down  together  on  the  green. 


90  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

They  sink  together  silent,  and  stealing  side  to 
side, 
They  fling  their  lovely  arms  o'er  their  drooping 
necks  so  fair, 
Then  vainly  strive  again  their  naked  arms  to  hide. 
For  their  shrinking  necks  again  are  bare. 

Thus  clasped  and  prostrate  all,  with  their  heads 
together  bowed, 
Soft  o'er  their  bosoms  beating  —  the  only  hu- 
man sound  — 
They  hear  the  silky  footsteps  of  the  silent  Fairy 
crowd. 
Like  a  river  in  the  air,  ghding  round. 

Nor  scream  can  any  raise,  nor  prayer  can  any  say, 
But  wild,  wild  the  terror  of  the  speechless 
three  — 

For  they  feel  fair  Anna  Grace  drawn  silently  away, 
By  whom  they  dare  not  look  to  see. 

They  feel  her  tresses  twine  with  their  parting  locks 
of  gold,  _ 

And  the  curls  elastic  falUng,  as  her  head  with- 
draws; 
They  feel  her  sliding  arms  from  their  tranced  arms 
unfold, 
But  they  dare  not  look  to  see  the  cause; 


LA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCI      91 

For  heavy  on  their  senses  the  faint  Enchantment 
Hes; 
Through  all  that  night  of  anguish  and  peril- 
ous amaze; 
And  neither  fear  nor  wonder  can  ope  their  quiver- 
ing eyes 
Or  their  limbs  from  the  cold  ground  raise. 

Till  out  of  Night  the  Earth  has  rolled  her  dewy 
side, 
With  every  haunted  mountain  and  streamy 
vale  below; 
When,  as  the  mist  dissolves  in  the  yellow  morning 
tide, 
The  maidens'  trance  dissolveth  so. 

Then  fly  the  ghastly  three  as  swiftly  as  they  may, 
And  tell  their  tale  of  sorrow  to  anxious  friends 

in  vain  — 
They  pined  away  and  died  within  the  year  and 

day, 

And  ne'er  was  Anna  Grace  seen  again. 

Samuel  Ferguson 

LA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCI 

Ah,  what  can  ail  thee,  wretched  wight, 

Alone  and  palely  loitering? 
The  sedge  is  withered  from  the  lake. 

And  no  birds  sing. 


92  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Ah,  what  can  ail  thee,  wretched  wight, 
So  haggard  and  so  woe-begone? 

The  squirrel's  granary  is  full, 
And  the  harvest 's  done. 

I  see  a  lily  on  thy  brow. 

With  anguish  moist  and  fever  dew; 
And  on  thy  cheek  a  fading  rose 

Fast  withereth  too. 

*'  i  met  a  lady  in  the  meads. 

Full  beautiful  —  a  Faery's  child; 

Her  hair  was  long,  her  foot  was  light. 
And  her  eyes  were  wild. 

*'I  set  her  on  my  pacing  steed. 
And  nothing  else  saw  all  day  long; 

For  sideways  would  she  lean,  and  sing 
A  Faery's  song. 

"I  made  a  garland  for  her  head. 

And  bracelets  too,  and  fragrant  zone; 

She  looked  at  me  as  she  did  love. 
And  made  sweet  moan. 

"She  found  me  roots  of  relish  sweet, 
And  honey  wild,  and  manna  dew; 

And  sure  in  language  strange  she  said,  - 
'I  love  thee  true.' 


THOMAS  THE  RHYMER  93 

"She  took  me  to  her  Elfin  grot, 

And  there  she  gazed  and  sighed  deep, 

And  there  I  shut  her  wild  sad  eyes  — 
So  kissed  to  sleep. 

"And  there  we  slumbered  on  the  moss. 
And  there  I  dreamed  —  Ah,  woe  betide ! 

The  latest  dream  I  ever  dreamed 
On  the  cold  hill-side. 

*'I  saw  pale  Kings  and  Princes  too. 

Pale  warriors,  death-pale  were  they  all; 

Who  cried,  *La  Belle  Dame  sans  Merci 
Hath  thee  in  thrall ! ' 

*T  saw  their  starved  lips  in  the  gloom 
With  horrid  w^arning  gaped  wide, 

And  I  awoke,  and  found  me  here 
On  the  cold  hill-side. 

"And  this  is  why  I  sojourn  here, 

Alone  and  palely  loitering, 

Though  the  sedge  is  withered  from  the  lake. 

And  no  birds  sing." 

John  Keats 

THOMAS  THE  RHYMER 

True  Thomas  lay  on  Huntlie  bank; 

A  ferlie  he  spied  wi  his  e'e; 
And  there  he  saw  a  lady  bright, 

Come  riding  down  by  the  Eildon  Tree. 


94         STORY-TELLING  BALLADS; 

Her  shirt  was  o  the  grass-green  silk. 
Her  mantle  o  the  velvet  fyne; 

At  ilka  tett  of  her  horse's  mane. 
Hang  fifty  siller  bells  and  nine 

True  Thomas  he  pulFd  aff  his  cap, 
And  louted  low  down  to  his  knee; 

"All  hail,  thou  mighty  Queen  of  Heaven! 
For  thy  peer  on  earth  I  never  did  see."  - 

"O  no,  O  no,  Thomas,"  she  said, 
'That  name  does  not  belang  to  me; 

I  am  but  the  Queen  of  fair  elfland, 
That  am  hither  come  to  visit  thee." 

"Harp  and  carp,  Thomas,"  she  said; 

"  Harp  and  carp  along  wi  me; 
And  if  ye  dare  to  kiss  my  hps. 

Sure  of  your  bodie  I  will  be."  — 

"Betide  me  weal,  betide  me  woe, 

That  weird  shall  never  daunton  me." — 

Syne  he  has  kissed  her  rosy  lips, 
All  underneath  the  Eildon  Tree. 

"Now,  ye  maun  go  wi  me,"  she  said; 

"True  Thomas,  ye  maun  go  wi  me. 
And  ye  maun  serve  me  seven  years. 

Thro  weal  or  woe  as  may  chance  to  be." 


THOI\L\S  THE  RHYMER  95 

She  mounted  on  her  milk-white  steed, 
She's  ta'en  True  Thomas  up  behind: 

And  aye,  whene'er  her  bridle  rung. 
The  steed  flew  swifter  than  the  wind. 

O  they  rade  on,  and  farther  on,  — 
The  steed  gaed  swifter  than  the  wind: 

Until  they  reached  a  desart  wide. 
And  livmg  land  was  left  behind. 

"Light  down,  light  down,  now.  True  Thomas, 
And  lean  your  head  upon  my  knee; 

Abide  and  rest  a  little  space, 

And  I  will  show  you  ferlies  three. 

"0  see  ye  not  yon  narrow  road. 

So  thick  beset  with  thorns  and  briers.'' 

That  is  the  path  of  righteousness. 
Tho  after  it  but  few  enquires. 

*'And  see  not  ye  that  braid,  braid  road. 

That  lies  across  the  lily  leven? 
That  is  the  path  of  wickedness, 

Tho  some  call  it  the  road  to  heaven. 

"And  see  not  ye  that  bonny  road. 
That  winds  about  the  fernie  brae? 

That  is  the  road  to  fair  Elfland, 

WTiere  you  and  I  this  night  maun  gae. 


96  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"But,  Thomas,  ye  maun  hold  your  tongue,. 

Whatever  ye  may  hear  or  see; 
For  if  you  speak  word  in  Elfyn  land, 

Ye '11  ne'er  get  back  to  your  ain  countrie.'* 

O  they  rade  on,  and  farther  on. 

And  they  waded  thro  rivers  aboon  the  knee, 
And  they  saw  neither  sun  nor  moon, 

But  they  heard  the  roaring  of  the  sea. 

It  was  mirk,  mirk  night,  and  there  was  nae  stern- 
Hght, 

And  they  waded  thro  red  blude  to  the  knee; 
For  a'  the  blude  that's  shed  on  earth 

Rins  thro  the  springs  o  that  countrie. 

Syne  they  came  on  to  a  garden  green. 
And  she  pu'd  an  apple  frae  a  tree: 

"Take  this  for  thy  wages,  True  Thomas; 
It  will  give  the  tongue  that  can  never  He." 


"My  tongue  is  mine  ain,"  True  Thomas  said, 
"A  gudely  gift  ye  wad  gie  to  me! 

I  neither  dought  to  buy  nor  sell. 
At  fair  or  tryst  where  I  may  be. 

"I  dought  neither  speak  to  prince  or  peer. 
Nor  ask  of  grace  from  fair  ladye." 

"Now  hold  thy  peace!"  the  lady  said, 
"  For  as  I  say  so  must  it  be." 


THE  KELPIE  OF  CORRIEVRECK.\N    97 

He  has  gotten  a  coat  of  the  even  cloth. 
And  a  pair  of  shoes  of  velvet  green; 

And  till  seven  years  were  gane  and  past, 
True  Thomas  on  earth  was  never  seen. 


THE  KELPIE  OF  CORRIEVRECKAN 

PART  I 

He  mounted  his  steed  of  the  water  clear, 

And  sat  on  his  saddle  of  sea- weed  sere; 

He  held  his  bridle  of  strings  of  pearl, 

Dug  out  of  the  depths  where  the  sea-snakes  curl. 

He  put  on  his  vest  of  the  whirlpool  froth. 
Soft  and  dainty  as  velvet  cloth, 
And  donned  his  mantle  of  sand  so  white. 
And  grasped  his  sword  of  the  coral  bright. 

And  away  he  galloped,  a  horseman  free. 
Spurring  his  steed  through  the  stormy  sea, 
Clearing  the  billows  with  bound  and  leap  — 
Away,  away,  o'er  the  foaming  deep! 

By  Scarba's  rock,  by  Lunga's  shore. 
By  Garveloch  isles  where  the  breakers  roar. 
With  his  horse's  hoofs  he  dashed  the  spray. 
And  on  to  Loch  Buy,  away,  away! 


98  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

On  to  Loch  Buy  all  day  he  rode, 
And  reached  the  shore  as  sunset  glowed. 
And  stopped  to  hear  the  sounds  of  joy 
That  rose  from  the  hills  and  glens  of  Moy. 

The  morrow  was  May,  and  on  the  green 
They'd  Ht  the  fire  of  Beltan  E'en, 
And  danced  around,  and  piled  it  high 
With  peat  and  heather  and  pine-logs  dry. 

A  piper  played  a  lightsome  reel. 
And  timed  the  dance  with  toe  and  heel; 
While  wives  looked  on,  as  lad  and  lass 
Trod  it  merrily  o'er  the  grass. 

And  Jessie  (fickle  and  fair  was  she) 
Sat  with  Evan  beneath  a  tree. 
And  smiled  with  mingled  love  and  pride. 
And  half  agreed  to  be  his  bride. 

The  Kelpie  galloped  o'er  the  green  — 
He  seemed  a  Knight  of  noble  mien. 
And  old  and  young  stood  up  to  see. 
And  wondered  who  the  Knight  could  be. 

His  flowing  locks  were  auburn  bright, 
His  cheeks  were  ruddy,  his  eyes  flashed  light; 
And  as  he  sprang  from  his  good  grey  steed. 
He  looked  a  gallant  youth  indeed. 


THE  KELPIE  OF  CORRIEVRECKiVN      99 

And  Jessie's  fickle  heart  beat  high, 
As  she  caught  the  stranger's  glancing  eye: 
And  when  he  smiled,  "Ah,  well,"  thought  she, 
"I  wish  this  Knight  came  courting  me!'* 

He  took  two  steps  towards  her  seat  — 
"Wilt  thou  be  mine,  O  Maiden  sweet?" 
He  took  her  lily-white  hand,  and  sighed, 
"Maiden,  Maiden,  be  my  bride!" 

And  Jessie  blushed,  and  whispered  soft  — - 
"Meet  me  to-night  when  the  moon's  aloft; 
I've  dreamed,  fair  Knight,  long  time  of  thee  — 
I  thought  thou  camest  courting  me." 

PART  II 

When  the  moon  her  yellow  horn  displayed, 
Alone  to  the  trysting  went  the  maid; 
When  all  the  stars  were  shining  bright, 
Alone  to  the  trysting  went  the  Knight. 

"I  have  loved  thee  long,  I  have  loved  thee  well. 
Maiden,  oh  more  than  words  can  tell! 
Maiden,  thine  eyes  like  diamonds  shine; 
Maiden,  Maiden,  be  thou  mine ! " 

"Fair  Sir,  thy  suit  I'll  ne'er  deny  — 
Though  poor  my  lot,  my  hopes  are  high; 
I  scorn  a  lover  of  low  degree  — 
None  but  a  Knight  shall  marry  me." 


100        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

He  took  her  by  the  hand  so  white, 
And  gave  her  a  ring  of  the  gold  so  bright; 
"Maiden,  whose  eyes  Hke  diamonds  shine  — 
Maiden,  Maiden,  now  thou  'rt  mine !  '* 

He  hfted  her  up  on  his  steed  of  grey, 
And  they  rode  till  morning  away,  away  — 
Over  the  mountain  and  over  the  moor, 
And  over  the  rocks,  to  the  dark  sea-shore. 

"We  have  ridden  East,  we  have  ridden  West  — 
I'm  weary,  fair  Knight,  and  I  fain  would  rest, 
Say,  is  thy  dwelling  beyond  the  sea? 
Hast  thou  a  good  ship  waiting  for  me?" 

**I  have  no  dwelling  beyond  the  sea, 

I  have  no  good  ship  waiting  for  thee; 

Thou  shalt  sleep  with  me  on  a  couch  of  foam, 

And  the  depths  of  the  ocean  shall  be  thy  home." 

The  grey  steed  plunged  in  the  billows  clear, 
And  the  maiden's  shrieks  were  sad  to  hear. 
"Maiden,  whose  eyes  like  diamonds  shine  — 
Maiden,  Maiden,  now  thou  'rt  mine!" 

Loud  the  cold  sea-blast  did  blow, 
As  they  sank  'mid  the  angry  waves  below  — 
Down  to  the  rocks  where  the  serpents  creep. 
Twice  five  hundred  fathoms  deep. 


I 


KILMENY  101 

At  morn  a  fisherman,  sailing  by. 
Saw  her  pale  corse  floating  high; 
He  Iviiew  the  maid  by  her  yellow  hair 
And  her  hly  skin  so  soft  and  fair. 

Under  a  rock  on  Scarba's  shore, 

Where  the  wild  winds  sigh  and  the  breakers 

roar. 
They  dug  her  a  grave  by  the  water  clear. 
Among  the  sea-weed  salt  and  seer. 

And  every  year  at  Beltan  E'en, 
The  Kelpie  gallops  across  the  green, 
On  a  steed  as  fleet  as  the  wintry  wind,' 
With  Jessie's  mournful  ghost  behind. 

I  warn  you,  maids,  whoever  you  be, 
Beware  of  pride  and  vanity; 
\nd  ere  on  change  of  love  you  reckon, 
Beware  the  Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan. 

Charles  Machay 

KILMENY 

Bonny  Kilmeny  gaed  up  the  glen; 
But  it  wasna  to  meet  Duneira's  men. 
Nor  the  rosy  monk  of  the  isle  to  see. 
For  Kilmeny  was  pure  as  pure  could  be. 
It  was  only  to  hear  the  yorlin  sing. 
And  pu'  the  cress-flower  round  the  spring; 


102        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  scarlet  hypp  and  the  hindberrye, 

And  the  nut  that  hang  frae  the  hazel  tree; 

For  Kilmeny  was  pure  as  pure  could  be. 

But  lang  may  her  minny  look  o'er  the  wa'. 

And  lang  may  she  seek  i'  the  green- wood  shaw; 

Lang  the  laird  of  Duneira  blame, 

And  lang,  lang  greet  or  Kilmeny  come  hame ! 

When  many  a  day  had  come  and  fled, 
When  grief  grew  calm,  and  hope  was  dead. 
When  mess  for  Kilmeny's  soul  had  been  sung, 
When  the  bedes-man  had  prayed,  and  the  dead 

bell  rung, 
Late,  late  in  a  gloamin  when  all  was  still. 
When  the  fringe  was  red  on  the  westlin  hill, 
The  wood  was  sere,  the  moon  i'  the  wane. 
The  reek  o'  the  cot  hung  over  the  plain, 
Like  a  little  wee  cloud  in  the  world  its  lane; 
When  the  ingle  lowed  with  a  eiry  leme. 
Late,  late  in  the  gloamin  Kilmeny  came  hame! 

"Kilmeny,  Kilmeny,  where  have  you  been? 
Lang  hae  we  sought  baith  holt  and  den; 
By  linn,  by  ford,  and  green-wood  tree. 
Yet  you  are  halesome  and  fair  to  see. 
Where  gat  you  that  joup  o'  the  lily  scheen? 
That  bonny  snood  of  the  birk  sae  green? 
And  these  roses,  the  fairest  that  ever  were  seen? 
Kilmeny,  Kilmeny,  where  have  you  been?'* 


KILMENY  103 

Kilmeny  looked  up  with  a  lovely  grace, 
But  nae  smile  was  seen  on  Kilmeny 's  face; 
As  still  was  her  look,  and  as  still  was  her  e'e. 
As  the  stillness  that  lay  on  the  emerant  lea. 
Or  the  mist  that  sleeps  on  a  waveless  sea. 
For  Kilmeny  had  been  she  knew  not  where, 
And  Kilmeny  had  seen  what  she  could  not  de- 
clare; 
Kilmeny  had  been  where  the  cock  never  crew, 
Where  the  rain  never  fell,  and  the  wind  never  blew; 
But  it  seemed  as  the  harp  of  the  sky  had  rung. 
And  the  airs  of  heaven  played  round  her  tongue. 
When  she  spake  of  the  lovely  forms  she  had  seen, 
And  a  land  where  sin  had  never  been; 
A  land  of  love,  and  a  land  of  light, 
Withouten  sun,  or  moon,  or  night; 
W^here  the  river  swa'd  a  living  stream. 
And  the  light  a  pure  celestial  beam: 
The  land  of  vision  it  would  seem, 
A  still,  an  everlasting  dream. 

In  yon  green -wood  there  is  a  waik. 
And  in  that  waik  there  is  a  wene. 

And  in  that  wene  there  is  a  maik 
That  neither  has  flesh,  blood,  nor  bane; 
And  down  in  yon  green-wood  he  walks  his  lane. 

In  that  green  wene  Kilmeny  lay. 
Her  bosom  happed  wi'  the  flowerets  gay; 


104        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

But  the  air  was  soft  and  the  silence  deep. 
And  bonny  Kilmeny  fell  sound  asleep. 
She  kend  nae  mair,  nor  opened  her  e'e, 
Till  waked  by  the  hymns  of  a  far  countrye. 

She  'wakened  on  a  couch  of  the  silk  sae  shm. 
All  striped  wi'  the  bars  of  the  rainbow's  rim; 
And  lovely  beings  round  were  rife, 
Who  erst  had  travelled  mortal  life; 
And  aye  they  smiled,  and  'gan  to  speer, 
"What  spirit  has  brought  this  mortal  here!" 

*'Lang  have  I  journeyed  the  world  wide," 
A  meek  and  reverend  Fere  replied; 
*'Baith  night  and  day  I  have  watched  the  fair, 
Eident  a  thousand  years  and  mair. 
Yes,  I  have  watched  o'er  ilk  degree. 
Wherever  blooms  femenitye; 
But  sinless  virgin,  free  of  stain 
In  mind  and  body,  fand  I  nane. 
Never,  since  the  banquet  of  time. 
Found  I  a  virgin  in  her  prime, 
Till  late  this  bonny  maiden  I  saw 
As  spotless  as  the  morning  snaw: 
Full  twenty  years  she  has  lived  as  free 
As  the  spirits  that  sojourn  in  this  countrye: 
I   have   brought   her  away  frae  the  snares  of 

men, 
That  sin  or  death  she  never  may  ken."  — 


KIL]VIENY  105 

They  clasped  her  waist  and  her  hands  sae  fair. 
They  kissed  her  cheek,  and  they  kerned  her  hair, 
And  round  came  many  a  blooming  Fere, 
Saying,  "Bonny  Kilmeny,  ye 're  welcome  here! 
Women  are  freed  of  the  littand  scorn: 
O,  blessed  be  the  day  Kilmeny  was  born! 
Now  shall  the  land  of  the  spirits  see, 
Now  shall  it  ken  what  a  woman  may  be! 
Many  a  lang  year  in  sorrow  and  pain, 
Many  a  lang  year  through  the  world  we  've  gane, 
Commissioned  to  watch  fair  womankind. 
For  it's  they  who  nurice  the  immortal  mind. 
We  have  watched  their  steps  as  the  dawning  shone. 
And  deep  in  the  green-wood  walks  alone;' 
By  Hly  bower  and  silken  bed, 
The  viewless  tears  have  o'er  them  shed; 
Have  soothed  their  ardent  minds  to  sleep. 
Or  left  the  couch  of  love  to  weep. 
We  have  seen!  we  have  seen!  but  the  time  must 

come, 
And  the  Angels  will  weep  at  the  day  of  doom ! 

"O,  would  the  fairest  of  mortal  kind 
Aye  keep  the  holy  truths  in  mind. 
That  kindred  spirits  their  motions  see, 
Who  watch  their  ways  with  anxious  e'e, 
And  grieve  for  the  guilt  of  humanitye ! 
O,  sweet  to  Heaven  the  maiden's  prayer. 
And  the  sigh  that  heaves  a  bosom  sae  fair ! 


106        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  dear  to  Heaven  the  words  of  truth, 
And  the  praise  of  virtue  frae  beauty's  mouth! 
And  dear  to  the  viewless  forms  of  air, 
The  minds  that  ky the  as  the  body  fair ! 

"O,  bonny  Kilmeny!  free  frae  stain. 
If  ever  you  seek  the  world  again, 
That  world  of  sin,  of  sorrow,  and  fear, 
O,  tell  of  the  joys  that  are  waiting  here; 
And  tell  of  the  signs  you  shall  shortly  see; 
Of  the  times  that  are  now,  and  the  times  that 
shall  be." 

They  lifted  Kilmeny,  they  led  her  away, 
And  she  walked  in  the  hght  of  a  sunless  day: 
The  sky  was  a  dome  of  crystal  bright. 
The  fountain  of  vision,  and  fountain  of  light: 
The  emerald  fields  were  of  dazzling  glow. 
And  the  flowers  of  everlasting  blow. 
Then  deep  in  the  stream  her  body  they  laid. 
That  her  youth  and  beauty  never  might  fade; 
And  they  smiled  on  Heaven,  when  they  saw  her  lie 
In  the  stream  of  hfe  that  wandered  bye. 
And  she  heard  a  song,  she  heard  it  sung. 
She  kend  not  where;  but  sae  sweetly  it  rung. 
It  fell  on  her  ear  like  a  dream  of  the  morn  — 
*'0,  blest  be  the  day  Kilmeny  was  born! 
Now  shall  the  land  of  the  spirits  see. 
Now  shall  it  ken  what  a  woman  may  be ! 


KILMENY  107 

The  sun  that  shines  on  the  world  sae  bright, 

A  borrowed  gleid  frae  the  fountain  of  hght; 

And  the  moon  that  sleeks  the  sky  sae  dun. 

Like  a  gouden  bow,  or  a  beamless  sun, 

Shall  wear  away,  and  be  seen  nae  mair, 

And  the  Angels  shall  miss  them  travelhng  the 

air. 
But  lang,  lang  after  baith  night  and  day, 
When  the  sun  and  the  world  have  elyed  away; 
When  the  sinner  has  gane  to  his  waesome  doom, 
Kilmeny  shall  smile  in  eternal  bloom!" 

They  bore  her  away,  she  w^st  not  how. 
For  she  felt  not  arm  nor  rest  below; 
But  so  swift  they  wained  her  through  the  light, 
'T  was  like  the  motion  of  sound  or  sight; 
They  seemed  to  split  the  gales  of  air, 
And  yet  nor  gale  nor  breeze  was  there. 
Unnumbered  groves  below  them  grew, 
They  came,  they  past,  and  backward  flew. 
Like  floods  of  blossoms  gliding  on, 
Li  moment  seen,  in  moment  gone. 
O,  never  vales  to  mortal  view 
Appeared  like  those  o'er  which  they  flew ! 
That  land  to  human  spirits  given, 
The  lowermost  vales  of  the  storied  Heaven ; 
From  thence  they  can  view  the  world  below, 
And  Heaven's  blue  gates  with  sapphires  glow, 
More  glory  yet  unmeet  to  know. 


108         STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

They  bore  her  far  to  a  mountain  green, 
To  see  what  mortal  never  had  seen; 
And  they  seated  her  high  on  a  purple  sward. 
And  bade  her  heed  what  she  saw  and  heard. 
And  note  the  changes  the  spirits  wrought, 
For  now  she  lived  in  the  Land  of  Thought. 
She  looked,  and  she  saw  nor  sun  nor  skies. 
But  a  crystal  dome  of  a  thousand  dies: 
She  looked,  and  she  saw  nae  land  aright. 
But  an  endless  whirl  of  glory  and  light: 
And  radiant  beings  went  and  came 
Far  swifter  than  wind,  or  the  Hnked  flame. 
She  hid  her  e'en  frae  the  dazzling  view; 
She  looked  again,  and  the  scene  was  new. 

But  to  sing  the  sights  Kilmeny  saw, 
So  far  surpassing  nature's  law. 
The  singer's  voice  wad  sink  away. 
And  the  string  of  his  harp  wad  cease  to  play. 
But  she  saw  till  the  sorrows  of  man  were  bye, 
And  all  was  love  and  harmony; 
Till  the  stars  of  Heaven  fell  calmly  away, 
Like  the  flakes  of  snaw  on  a  winter  day. 

Then  Kilmeny  begged  again  to  see 
The  friends  she  had  left  in  her  own  countrye, 
To  tell  of  the  place  where  she  had  been. 
And  the  glories  that  lay  in  the  land  unseen; 


KILMENY  109 

To  warn  the  living  maidens  fair, 
The  loved  of  Heaven,  the  spirits'  care. 
That  all  whose  minds  unmeled  remain 
Shall  bloom  in  beauty  when  time  is  gane. 

With  distant  music,  soft  and  deep. 
They  lulled  Kilmeny  sound  asleep; 
And  when  she  awakened,  she  lay  her  lane, 
All  happed  with  flowers  in  the  green-wood  wene. 
When  seven  lang  years  had  come  and  fled ; 
When  grief  was  calm,  and  hope  was  dead; 
When  scarce  was  remembered  Kilmeny 's  name. 
Late,  late  in  a  gloamin  Kilmeny  came  hame! 

And  O,  her  beauty  was  fair  to  see. 
But  still  and  steadfast  was  her  e'e ! 
Such  beauty  bard  may  never  declare. 
For  there  was  no  pride  nor  passion  there; 
And  the  soft  desire  of  maiden's  e'en 
In  that  mild  face  could  never  be  seen. 
Her  seymar  was  the  lily  flower. 
And  her  cheek  the  moss-rose  in  the  shower; 
And  her  voice  hke  the  distant  melodye. 
That  floats  along  the  twilight  sea. 
But  she  loved  to  raike  the  lanely  glen. 
And  keeped  afar  frae  the  haunts  of  men; 
Her  holy  hymns  unheard  to  sing, 
To  suck  the  flowers,  and  drink  the  spring. 

But  wherever  her  peaceful  form  appeared. 
The  wild  beasts  of  the  hill  were  cheered; 


no        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  wolf  played  blythely  round  the  field. 

The  lordly  byson  lowed  and  kneeled; 

The  dun  deer  wooed  with  manner  bland, 

And  cowered  aneath  her  lily  hand. 

And  when  at  even  the  woodlands  rung. 

When  hymns  of  other  worlds  she  sung. 

In  ecstasy  of  sweet  devotion, 

O,  then  the  glen  was  all  in  motion! 

The  wild  beasts  of  the  forest  came, 

Broke  from  their  bughts  and  faulds  the  tame. 

And  goved  around,  charmed  and  amazed; 

Even  the  dull  cattle  crooned  and  gazed, 

And  murmured  and  looked  with  anxious  pain 

For  something  the  mystery  to  explain. 

The  buzzard  came  with  the  throstle-cock; 
The  corby  left  her  houf  in  the  rock; 
The  blackbird  alang  wi'  the  eagle  flew; 
The  hind  came  tripping  o'er  the  dew; 
The  wolf  and  the  kid  their  raike  began. 
And  the  tod,  and  the  lamb,  and  the  leveret  ran; 
The  hawk  and  the  hern  attour  them  hung. 
And   the  merl  and  the  mavis  forhooyed   their 

young; 
And  all  in  a  peaceful  ring  were  hurled: 
It  was  like  an  eve  in  a  sinless  world ! 

When  a  month  and  a  day  had  come  and  gane, 
Kilmeny  sought  the  green-wood  wene; 


KILMENY  Hi 

There  laid  her  down  on  the  leaves  sae  green, 
And  Kilmeny  on  earth  was  never  mair  seen. 
But,  O,  the  words  that  fell  from  her  mouth, 
Were  words  of  wonder  and  words  of  truth ! 
But  all  the  land  were  in  fear  and  dread, 
For  they  kendna  whether  she  was  living  or  dead. 
It  wasna  her  hame,  and  she  couldna  remain; 
She  left  this  world  of  sorrow  and  pain. 

And  returned  to  the  Land  of  Thought  again. 

The  Eltrick  Shepherd.  {Condensed) 


LAYS  O'  WONDER 


THE  WEE  WEE  MAN 

As  I  was  walking  all  alane. 

Between  a  water  and  a  wa\ 
And  there  I  spied  a  wee  wee  man. 

And  he  was  tlie  least  thai  eer  I  saw. 

His  legs  were  scarce  a  shathmonfs  length. 
And  thick  and  thimber  was  his  thic; 

Between  his  brows  there  was  a  span. 

And  between  his  shoulders  there  was  three. 

He  took  up  a  meikle  stane. 

And  he  Jiang  't  as  far  as  I  could  see; 
Though  I  had  been  a  Wallace  wight, 

I  couldna  liften  't  to  my  knee. 

"  0,  wee  wee  man,  but  thou  art  Strang! 

0  tell  me  where  thy  dwelling  be?" 
"  My  dwelling  's  doum  by  yon  bonny  bower, 

0  will  you  go  with  me  and  see?" 

On  we  lap,  and  awd  we  rade. 
Till  we  came  to  yon  bonny  green; 

We  lighted  down  to  bait  our  horse. 
And  out  there  came  a  lady  fine. 

Four-and-twenty  at  her  back. 

And  they  were  a'  clad  out  in  green; 

Though  the  King  of  Scotland  had  been  there. 
The  warst  a'  them  might  hae  been  his  queen. 

On  we  lap,  and  awci  we  rade. 

Till  we  came  to  yon  bonny  ha\ 
Where  the  roof  was  o'  the  beaten  gowd. 

And  the  floor  was  o'  the  crystal  a\ 

When  we  came  to  the  stair  foot. 

Ladies  were  dancing  jimp  and  sm(i; 

But  in  the  twinkling  o'  an  ee. 
My  wee  wee  man  was  clean  awa\ 


THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER 

PART  I 

It  was  intill  a  pleasant  time, 

Upon  a  simmer's  day, 
The  noble  Earl  of  Mar's  daughter 

Went  forth  to  sport  and  play. 

As  thus  she  did  amuse  hersell. 

Below  a  green  aik  tree. 
There  she  saw  a  sprightly  doo 

Set  on  a  tower  sae  hie. 

**0  Cow-me-doo,  my  love  sae  true, 

If  ye  '11  come  down  to  me. 
Ye  'se  hae  a  cage  o  guid  red  gowd 

Instead  o  simple  tree: 

"I'll  put  gowd  hingers  roun  your  cage. 

And  siller  roun  your  wa; 
I  '11  gar  ye  shine  as  fair  a  bird 

As  ony  o  them  a'." 

But  she  hadnae  these  words  well  spoke. 
Nor  yet  these  words  well  said, 

Till  Cow-me-doo  flew  frae  the  tower 
And  hghted  on  her  head. 


116        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Then  she  has  brought  this  pretty  bird 

Hame  to  her  bowers  and  ha, 
And  made  him  shine  as  fair  a  bird 

As  ony  o  them  a'. 

When  day  was  gane,  and  night  was  come, 

About  the  evening  tide. 
This  lady  spied  a  sprightly  youth 

Stand  straight  up  by  her  side. 

"From  whence  came  ye,  young  man? "  she  said; 

"That  does  surprise  me  sair; 
My  door  was  bolted  right  secure. 

What  way  hae  ye  come  here?" 

"O  had  your  tongue,  ye  lady  fair, 

Lat  a'  your  folly  be; 
Mind  ye  not  on  your  turtle-doo 

Last  day  ye  brought  wi  thee?'* 

"O  tell  me  mair,  young  man,"  she  said, 

"This  does  surprise  me  now; 
What  country  hae  ye  come  frae? 

What  pedigree  are  you?" 

"My  mither  lives  on  foreign  isles, 

She  has  nae  mair  but  me; 
She  is  a  queen  o  wealth  and  state. 

And  birth  and  high  degree. 


THE  EARL  OF  ]VL\R'S  DAUGHTER    117 

"Likewise  well  skilld  in  magic  spells, 

As  ye  may  plainly  see. 
And  she  transformd  me  to  yon  shape. 

To  charm  such  maids  as  thee. 

"I  am  a  doo  the  hve-lang  day, 

A  sprightly  youth  at  night; 
This  aye  gars  me  appear  mair  fair 

In  a  fair  maiden's  sight. 

"And  it  was  but  this  verra  day 

That  I  came  ower  the  sea; 
Your  lovely  face  did  me  enchant; 

I'll  live  and  dee  wi  thee." 

"0  Cow-me-doo,  my  luve  sae  true, 
Nae  mair  frae  me  ye'se  gae;" 

"That's  never  my  intent,  my  luve, 
As  ye  said,  it  shall  be  sae." 


« 


<c 


O  Cow-me-doo,  my  luve  sae  true, 
It's  time  for  us  to  wed;" 

Wi  a'  my  heart,  my  dear  marrow, 
It's  be  as  ye  hae  said." 


PART  II 

Then  he  has  staid  in  bower  wi  her 
For  sax  lang  years  and  ane, 

Till  sax  young  sons  to  him  she  bare. 
And  the  seventh  she 's  brought  hame. 


118        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

But  aye  as  ever  a  child  was  born 

He  carried  them  away, 
And  brought  them  to  his  mither's  care. 

As  fast  as  he  coud  fly. 

Thus  he  has  staid  in  bower  wi  her 
For  twenty  years  and  three; 

There  came  a  lord  o  high  renown 
To  court  this  fair  ladie. 

But  still  his  proffer  she  refused. 

And  a'  his  presents  too; 
Says,  "I'm  content  to  live  alane 

Wi  my  bird,  Cow-me-doo." 

Her  father  sware  a  solemn  oath 

Amang  the  nobles  all, 
"The  morn,  or  ere  I  eat  or  drink, 

This  bird  I  will  gar  kill." 

The  bird  was  sitting  in  his  cage. 
And  heard  what  they  did  say; 

And  when  he  found  they  were  dismist. 
Says,  "Wae's  me  for  this  day! 

"Before  that  I  do  langer  stay. 

And  thus  to  be  forlorn, 
I'll  gang  unto  my  mither's  bower. 

Where  I  was  bred  and  born." 


THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER    119 

Tlien  Cow-me-doo  took  flight  and  flew 

Beyond  the  raging  sea, 
And  hghted  near  his  mither's  castle, 

On  a  tower  o  gowd  sae  hie. 

As  his  mither  was  wauking  out, 

To  see  what  she  coud  see, 
And  there  she  saw  her  httle  son. 

Set  on  the  tower  sae  hie. 

*'Get  dancers  here  to  dance,"  she  said, 

"And  minstrells  for  to  play; 
For  here's  my  young  son,  Florentine, 

Come  here  wi  me  to  stay." 

"Get  nae  dancers  to  dance,  mither. 

Nor  minstrells  for  to  play, 
For  the  mither  o  my  seven  sons. 

The  morn's  her  wedding-day." 

"O  tell  me,  tell  me,  Florentine, 

Tell  me,  and  tell  me  true. 
Tell  me  this  day  without  a  flaw. 

What  I  will  do  for  you." 

"Instead  of  dancers  to  dance,  mither. 

Or  minstrells  for  to  play. 
Turn  four-and-twenty  wall-wight  men 

Like  storks  in  feathers  gray; 


120        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS  ^\ 

"My  seven  sons  in  seven  swans, 

Aboon  their  heads  to  flee; 
And  I  mysell  a  gay  gos-hawk, 

A  bird  o  high  degree." 

Then  sichin  said  the  queen  hersell, 

"That  thing's  too  high  for  me;" 
But  she  appUed  to  an  auld  woman. 

Who  had  mair  skill  than  she. 

Instead  o  dancers  to  dance  a  dance. 

Or  minstrells  for  to  play, 
Four-and-twenty  wall-wight  men 

Turnd  birds  o  feathers  gray; 

Her  seven  sons  in  seven  swans, 

Aboon  their  heads  to  flee; 
And  he  himsell  a  gay  gos-hawk, 

A  bird  o  high  degree. 

This  flock  o  birds  took  flight  and  flew 

Beyond  the  raging  sea, 
And  landed  near  the  Earl  Mar's  castle, 

Took  shelter  in  every  tree. 

They  were  a  flock  o  pretty  birds. 

Right  comely  to  be  seen; 
The  people  viewd  them  wi  surprise. 

As  they  dancd  on  the  green. 


THE  EARL  OF  IVIAR'S  DAUGHTER    121 

These  birds  ascended  frae  the  tree 

And  lighted  on  the  ha, 
And  at  the  last  wi  force  did  flee 

Amang  the  nobles  a'. 

The  storks  there  seized  some  o  the  men. 
They  coud  neither  fight  nor  flee; 

The  swans  they  bound  the  bride's  best  man 
Below  a  green  aik  tree. 

They  lighted  next  on  maidens  fair. 
Then  on  the  bride's  own  head. 

And  wi  the  twinkling  o  an  ee 
The  bride  and  them  were  fled. 

There's  ancient  men  at  weddings  been 

For  sixty  years  or  more, 
But  sic  a  curious  wedding-day 

They  never  saw  before. 

For  naething  coud  the  companie  do, 

Nor  naething  coud  they  say 
But  they  saw  a  flock  o  pretty  birds 

That  took  their  bride  away. 

When  that  Earl  Mar  he  came  to  know 

Where  his  dochter  did  stay. 
He  signd  a  bond  o'  unity. 

And  visits  now  they  pay. 


122        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 


KEMP  OWYNE 

Her  mother  died  when  she  was  young, 

Which  gave  her  cause  to  make  great  moan; 

Her  father  married  the  warst  woman 
That  ever  Hved  in  Christendom. 

She  served  her  with  foot  and  hand, 
In  every  thing  that  she  could  dee. 

Till  once,  in  an  unlucky  time. 

She  threw  her  in  ower  Craigy's  sea. 

Says,  "Lie  you  there,  dove  Isabel, 
And  all  my  sorrows  lie  with  thee; 

Till  Kemp  Owyne  come  ower  the  sea, 
And  borrow  you  with  kisses  three. 

Let  all  the  warld  do  what  they  will. 
Oh  borrowed  shall  you  never  be!" 

Her  breath  grew  Strang,  her  hair  grew  lang. 
And  twisted  thrice  about  the  tree. 

And  all  the  people,  far  and  near. 

Thought  that  a  savage  beast  was  she. 

These  news  did  come  to  Kemp  Owyne, 
Where  he  hved,  far  beyond  the  sea; 

He  hasted  him  to  Craigy's  sea, 
And  on  the  savage  beast  lookd  he. 


i 


KEMP  OWYNE  123 

Her  breath  was  Strang,  her  hair  was  lang. 
And  twisted  was  about  the  tree, 

And  with  a  swing  she  came  about: 

*'  Come  to  Craigy's  sea,  and  kiss  with  me. 

"Here  is  a  royal  belt,'*  she  cried, 

"That  I  have  found  in  the  green  sea; 

And  while  your  body  it  is  on, 

Drawn  shall  your  blood  never  be; 

But  if  you  touch  me,  tail  or  fin, 
I  vow  my  belt  your  death  shall  be.' 


a 


He  stepped  in,  gave  her  a  kiss. 
The  royal  belt  he  brought  him  wi; 

Her  breath  was  Strang,  her  hair  was  lang. 
And  twisted  twice  about  the  tree, 

And  with  a  swing  she  came  about: 

"Come  to  Craigy's  sea,  and  kiss  with  me. 


"Here  is  a  royal  ring,"  she  said, 

"That  I  have  found  in  the  green  sea; 

And  while  your  finger  it  is  on, 
Drawn  shall  your  blood  never  be; 

But  if  you  touch  me,  tail  or  fin, 

I  swear  my  ring  your  death  shall  be. 


»» 


He  stepped  in,  gave  her  a  kiss, 
The  royal  ring  he  brought  him  wi; 


124        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Her  breath  was  Strang,  her  hair  was  lang, 
And  twisted  ance  about  the  tree. 

And  with  a  swing  she  came  about: 

"  Come  to  Craigy's  sea,  and  kiss  with  me. 


«< 


Here  is  a  royal  brand,"  she  said, 

"That  I  have  found  in  the  green  sea; 
And  while  your  body  it  is  on, 

Drawn  shall  your  blood  never  be; 
But  if  you  touch  me,  tail  or  fin, 

I  swear  my  brand  your  death  shall  be." 

He  stepped  in,  gave  her  a  kiss. 

The  royal  brand  he  brought  him  wi; 

Her  breath  was  sweet,  her  hair  grew  short, 
And  twisted  nane  about  the  tree, 

And  smilingly  she  came  about, 
As  fair  a  woman  as  fair  could  be.- 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT 

PART  I 

On  either  side  the  river  he 
Long  fields  of  barley  and  of  rye, 
That  clothe  the  wold  and  meet  the  sky; 
And  thro'  the  field  the  road  runs  by 

To  many-towered  Camelot; 
And  up  and  down  the  people  go. 


THE  LADY  OF  SIULOTT  125 

Gazing  where  the  Hhes  blow 
Round  an  island  there  below. 
The  island  of  Shalott, 

Willows  whiten,  aspens  quiver, 
Little  breezes  dusk  and  shiver 
Thro'  the  wave  that  runs  for  ever 
By  the  island  in  the  river 

Flowing  down  to  Camelot. 
Four  grey  walls,  and  four  grey  towers, 
Overlook  a  space  of  flowers. 
And  the  silent  isle  imbowers 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

By  the  margin,  willow-veiled. 
Slide  the  heavy  barges  trailed 
By  slow  horses;  and  unhailed 
The  shallop  flitteth  silken-sailed 

Skimming  down  to  Camelot; 
But  who  hath  seen  her  wave  her  hand? 
Or  at  the  casement  seen  her  stand? 
Or  is  she  known  in  all  the  land. 

The  Lady  of  Shalott? 

Only  reapers,  reaping  early 
In  among  the  bearded  barley, 
Hear  a  song  that  echoes  cheerly 
From  the  river  winding  clearly, 
Down  to  towered  Camelot; 


126        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  by  the  moon  the  reaper  weary, 
PiHng  sheaves  in  uplands  airy, 
Listening,  whispers  "'T  is  the  Fairy 
Lady  of  Shalott.'* 

PART  n 

There  she  weaves  by  night  and  day 
A  magic  web  with  colours  gay. 
She  has  heard  a  whisper  say, 
A  curse  is  on  her  if  she  stay 

To  look  down  to  Camelot. 
She  knows  not  what  the  curse  may  be, 
And  so  she  weaveth  steadily. 
And  little  other  care  hath  she. 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

And  moving  thro*  a  mirror  clear 
That  hangs  before  her  all  the  year, 
Shadows  of  the  world  appear. 
There  she  sees  the  highway  near 

Winding  down  to  Camelot; 
There  the  river  eddy  whirls. 
And  there  the  surly  village-churls. 
And  the  red  cloaks  of  market-girls. 

Pass  onward  from  Shalott. 

Sometimes  a  troop  of  damsels  glad. 
An  abbot  on  an  ambling  pad, 
Sometimes  a  curly  shepherd-lad, 
Or  long-haired  page  in  crimson  clad, 


THE  LADY  OF  SIIALOTT  127 

Goes  by  to  towered  Camelot; 
And  sometimes  thro'  the  mirror  blue 
The  Knights  come  riding  two  and  two: 
She  hath  no  loyal  Knight  and  true, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

But  in  her  web  she  still  dehghts 
To  weave  the  mirror's  magic  sights. 
For  often  thro'  the  silent  nights 
A  funeral,  with  plumes  and  lights 

And  music,  went  to  Camelot; 
Or  when  the  moon  was  overhead, 
Came  two  young  lovers  lately  wed : 
"I  am  half  sick  of  shadows,"  said 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

PART  III 

A  Bow-siiOT  from  her  bower-eaves. 
He  rode  between  the  barley-sheaves, 
The  sun  came  dazzling  thro'  the  leaves. 
And  flamed  upon  the  brazen  greaves 

Of  bold  Sir  Lancelot. 
A  Red-cross  Knight  for  ever  kneeled 
To  a  lady  in  his  shield. 
That  sparkled  on  the  yellow  field, 

Beside  remote  Shalott. 

The  gemmy  bridle  glittered  free. 
Like  to  some  branch  of  stars  we  see 


128        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Hung  in  the  golden  Galaxy. 
The  bridle-bells  rang  merrily 

As  he  rode  down  to  Camelot: 
And  from  his  blazoned  baldric  slung 
A  mighty  silver  bugle  hung, 
And  as  he  rode  his  armour  rung, 

Beside  remote  Shalott. 

All  in  the  blue  unclouded  weather 
Thick- jewelled  shone  the  saddle-leather, 
The  helmet  and  the  helmet-feather 
Burned  hke  one  burning  flame  together, 

As  he  rode  down  to  Camelot; 
As  often  thro'  the  purple  night, 
Below  the  starry  clusters  bright, 
Some  bearded  meteor,  trailing  light, 

Moves  over  still  Shalott. 

His  broad  clear  brow  in  sunlight  glowed; 
On  burnished  hooves  his  war-horse  trode; 
From  underneath  his  helmet  flowed 
His  coal-black  curls  as  on  he  rode. 

As  he  rode  down  to  Camelot. 
From  the  bank  and  from  the  river 
He  flashed  into  the  crystal  mirror, 
**Tirra  Hrra,"  by  the  river 

Sang  Sir  Lancelot. 

She  left  the  web,  she  left  the  loom. 
She  made  three  paces  thro'  the  room. 


THE  LADY  OF  SIULOTT  129 

She  saw  the  water-lily  bloom, 
She  saw  the  helmet  and  the  plume, 

She  looked  down  to  Camelot. 
Out  flew  the  web  and  floated  wide; 
The  mirror  cracked  from  side  to  side; 
"The  curse  is  come  upon  me,"  cried 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

PART  IV  ^ 

In  the  stormy  east-wind  straining. 
The  pale  yellow  woods  were  waning, 
The  broad  stream  in  his  banks  complaining. 
Heavily  the  low  sky  raining 

Over  towered  Camelot; 
Down  she  came  and  found  a  boat 
Beneath  a  willow  left  afloat, 
And  round  about  the  prow  she  wrote 

The  Lady  of  ShaloU, 

And  down  the  river's  dim  expanse 
Like  some  bold  seer  in  a  trance. 
Seeing  all  his  own  mischance  — 
With  a  glassy  countenance 

Did  she  look  to  Camelot. 
And  at  the  closing  of  the  day 
She  loosed  the  chain,  and  down  she  lay; 
The  broad  stream  bore  her  far  away. 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 


130        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Lying,  robed  in  snowy  white 
That  loosely  flew  to  left  and  right  — 
The  leaves  upon  her  falling  hght  — 
Thro'  the  noises  of  the  night 

She  floated  down  to  Camelot; 
And  as  the  boat-head  wound  along 
The  willowy  hills  and  fields  among, 
They  heard  her  singing  her  last  song. 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

Heard  a  carol,  mournful,  holy, 
Chanted  loudly,  chanted  lowly. 
Till  her  blood  was  frozen  slowly. 
And  her  eyes  were  darkened  wholly. 

Turned  to  towered  Camelot. 
For  ere  she  reached  upon  the  tide 
The  first  house  by  the  water-side, 
Singing  in  her  song  she  died. 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

Under  tower  and  balcony,' 

By  garden-wall  and  gallery, 

A  gleaming  shape  she  floated  by. 

Dead-pale  between  the  houses  high. 

Silent  into  Camelot. 
Out  upon  the  wharfs  they  came, 
Knight  and  burgher,  lord  and  dame. 
And  round  the  prow  they  read  her  name, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 


THE  SINGING  LEAVES  131 

Who  is  this?  and  what  is  here? 
And  in  the  hghted  palace  near 
Died  the  sound  of  royal  cheer; 
And  they  crossed  themselves  for  fear, 

All  the  Knights  at  Camelot: 
But  Lancelot  mused  a  httle  space; 
He  said,  "She  has  a  lovely  face; 
God  in  his  mercy  lend  her  grace, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott." 

Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson 


THE  SINGING  LEAVES 
I 

"What  fairings  will  ye  that  I  bring?" 
Said  the  King  to  his  daughters  three; 

"For  I  to  Vanity  Fair  am  boun'. 
Now  say  what  shall  they  be?'* 

Then  up  and  spake  the  eldest  daughter. 
That  lady  tall  and  grand: 
Oh,  bring  me  pearls  and  diamonds  great, 
And  gold  rings  for  my  hand." 


(< 


Thereafter  spake  the  second  daughter. 
That  was  both  white  and  red : 

"For  me  bring  silks  that  will  stand  alone. 
And  a  gold  comb  for  my  head." 


132        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Then  came  the  turn  of  the  least  daughter. 
That  was  whiter  than  thistle-down, 

And  among  the  gold  of  her  blithesome  hair 
Dim  shone  the  golden  crown. 

"There  came  a  bird  this  morning. 
And  sang  'neath  my  bower  eaves, 

Till  I  dreamed,  as  his  music  made  me, 
'Ask  thou  for  the  Singing  Leaves.'" 

Then  the  brow  of  the  King  swelled  crimson 

With  a  flush  of  angry  scorn: 
"Well  have  ye  spoken,  my  two  eldest. 

And  chosen  as  ye  were  born; 

"But  she,  like  a  thing  of  peasant  race, 
That  is  happy  binding  the  sheaves;" 

Then  he  saw  her  dead  mother  in  her  face. 
And  said,  "Thou  shalt  have  thy  leaves." 

II 

He  mounted  and  rode  three  days  and  nights 

Till  he  came  to  Vanity  Fair, 
And  't  was  easy  to  buy  the  gems  and  the  silk. 

But  no  Singing  Leaves  were  there. 

Then  deep  in  the  Greenwood  rode  he, 

And  asked  of  every  tree, 
"Oh,  if  you  have  ever  a  Singing  Leaf, 

I  pray  you  give  it  me!" 


THE  SINGING  LEA\^S  133 

But  the  trees  all  kept  their  counsel, 

And  never  a  word  said  they, 
Only  there  sighed  from  the  pine-tops 

A  music  of  seas  far  away. 

Only  the  pattering  aspen 

Made  a  sound  of  growing  rain. 
That  fell  ever  faster  and  faster, 

Then  faltered  to  silence  again. 

"Oh,  where  shall  I  find  a  little  foot-page 
That  would  win  both  hose  and  shoon. 

And  will  bring  to  me  the  Singing  Leaves 
If  they  grow  under  the  moon?" 

Then  lightly  turned  him  Walter  the  page. 

By  the  stirrup  as  he  ran : 
"Now  pledge  you  me  the  truesome  word 

Of  a  King  and  gentleman, 

"That  you  will  give  me  the  first,  first  thing 

You  meet  at  your  castle-gate, 
And  the  Princess  shall  get  the  Singing  Leaves, 

Or  mine  be  a  traitor's  fate." 

The  King's  head  dropt  upon  his  breast 

A  moment,  as  it  might  be; 
'T  will  be  my  dog,  he  thought,  and  said, 

"My  faith  I  plight  to  thee." 


134        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Then  Walter  took  from  next  his  heart 

A  packet  small  and  thin, 
"Now  give  you  this  to  the  Princess  Anne, 

The  Singing  Leaves  are  therein." 

Ill 

As  the  King  rode  in  at  his  castle-gate, 

A  maiden  to  meet  him  ran, 
And  "Welcome,  Father!"  she  laughed  and  cried 

Together,  the  Princess  Anne. 

"Lo,  here  the  Singing  Leaves,"  quoth  he, 
"And  woe,  but  they  cost  me  dear!" 

She  took  the  packet,  and  the  smile 
Deepened  down  beneath  the  tear. 

It  deepened  down  till  it  reached  her  heart, 

And  then  gushed  up  again. 
And  lighted  her  tears  as  the  sudden  sun 

Transfigures  the  summer  rain. 

And  the  first  Leaf,  when  it  was  opened. 

Sang:  "I  am  Walter  the  page. 
And  the  songs  I  sing  'neath  thy  window 

Are  my  only  heritage." 

And  the  second  Leaf  sang,  "But  in  the  land 
That  is  neither  on  earth  nor  sea. 

My  lute  and  I  are  lords  of  more 
Than  thrice  this  kingdom's  fee." 


THE  LUCK  OF  EDENIIALL        135 

And  the  third  Leaf  sang,  "Be  mine!  Be  mine!" 

And  ever  it  sang,  "Be  mine!" 
Then  sweeter  it  sang  and  ever  sweeter. 

And  said,  "I  am  thine,  thine,  thine!" 

At  the  first  Leaf  she  grew  pale  enough, 

At  the  second  she  turned  aside, 
At  the  third,  't  was  as  if  a  hly  flushed 

With  a  rose's  red  heart's  tide,  j 

"Good  counsel  gave  the  bird,"  said  she, 

"I  have  my  hope  thrice  o'er. 
For  they  sing  to  my  very  heart,"  she  said, 

"And  it  sings  to  them  evermore." 

She  brought  to  him  her  beauty  and  truth, 

But  and  broad  earldoms  three. 

And  he  made  her  Queen  of  tlie  broader  lands 

He  held  of  his  lute  in  fee. 

James  Russell  Lowell 


THE  LUCK  OF  EDENHALL 

Of  Edenhall,  the  youthful  Lord 

Bids  sound  the  festal  trumpet's  call; 

He  rises  at  the  banquet  board, 

And  cries,  'mid  the  drunken  revellers  all: 

"Now  bring  me  the  Luck  of  Edenhall!" 


136        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  butler  hears  the  words  with  pain. 
The  house's  oldest  seneschal, 
Takes  slow  from  its  silken  cloth  again 
The  drinking-glass  of  crystal  tall; 
They  call  it  the  Luck  of  Edenhall. 

Then  said  the  Lord:  "This  glass  to  praise. 

Fill  with  red  wine  from  Portugal!" 

The  greybeard  with  trembhng  hand  obeys; 

A  purple  light  shines  over  all, 

It  beams  from  the  Luck  of  Edenhall. 

Then  speaks  the  Lord,  and  waves  it  light: 
"This  glass  of  flashing  crystal  tall 
Gave  to  my  sires  the  Fountain-Sprite; 
She  wrote  in  it,  If  this  glass  doth  fally 
Farewell  then,  0  Luck  of  Edenhall! 

"'T  was  right  a  goblet  the  Fate  should  be 
Of  the  joyous  race  of  Edenhall! 
Deep  draughts  drink  we  right  willingly 
And  willingly  ring,  with  merry  call, 
Kling!  klang!  to  the  Luck  of  Edenhall!" 

First  rings  it  deep,  and  full,  and  mild. 
Like  to  the  song  of  a  nightingale; 
Then  like  the  roar  of  a  torrent  wild; 
Then  mutters  at  last  like  the  thunder's  fall, 
The  glorious  Luck  of  Edenhall. 


THE  LUCK  OF  EDENHALL        137 

"For  its  keeper  takes  a  raee  of  might, 

The  fragile  goblet  of  crystal  tall; 

It  has  lasted  longer  than  is  right; 

Kling!  klang!  —  with  a  harder  blow  than  all 

Will  I  try  the  Luck  of  Edenhall!" 

As  the  goblet  ringing  flies  apart, 
Suddenly  cracks  the  vaulted  hall; 
And  through  the  rift,  the  wild  flames  start; 
The  guests  in  dust  are  scattered  all. 
With  the  breaking  Luck  of  Edenhall ! 

Jn  storms  the  foe,  with  fire  and  sword; 
He  in  the  night  had  scaled  the  wall. 
Slain  by  the  sword  hes  the  youthful  Lord, 
But  holds  in  his  hand  the  crystal  tall. 
The  shattered  Luck  of  Edenhall. 

On  the  morrow  the  butler  gropes  alone, 
The  greybeard  in  the  desert  hall, 
He  seeks  his  Lord's  burnt  skeleton,^ 
He  seeks  in  the  dismal  ruin's  fall 
The  shards  of  the  Luck  of  Edenhall. 

"The  stone  wall,"  saith  he,  "doth  fall  aside, 
Down  must  the  stately  columns  fall; 
Glass  is  this  earth's  Luck  and  Pride; 
In  atoms  shall  fall  this  earthly  ball 
One  day  like  the  Luck  of  Edenhall ! " 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow,  from  Uhland 


138        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 
MAY  OF  THE  MORIL  GLEN 

PART  I 

I  WILL  tell  you  of  ane  wondrous  tale, 

As  ever  was  told  by  man, 
Or  ever  was  sung  by  minstrel  meet 

Since  this  base  world  began :  — 

It  is  of  ane  May,  and  ane  lovely  May, 

That  dwelt  in  the  Moril  Glen, 
The  fairest  flower  of  mortal  frame. 

But  a  devil  amongst  the  men; 

For  nine  of  them  sticket  themselves  for  love, 

And  ten  leaped  in  the  main. 
And  seven-and-thirty  brake  their  hearts. 

And  never  loved  women  again. 

But  this  bonnie  May,  she  never  knew 

A  father's  kindly  claim; 
She  never  was  blessed  in  holy  Church, 

Nor  christened  in  holy  name. 

But  there  she  lived  an  earthly  flower 

Of  beauty  so  supreme. 
Some  feared  she  was  of  the  Mermaid's  brood, 

Come  out  of  the  salt  sea  faeme. 


I 


MxVY  OF  THE  MORIL  GLEN       139 

Some  said  she  was  found  in  a  Fairy  Ring, 

And  born  of  the  Fairy  Queen; 
For  there  was  a  rainbow  behind  the  moon 

That  night  she  first  was  seen. 

And  no  man  could  look  on  her  face 
And  eyne  that  beamed  so  clear 

But  felt  a  sting  go  through  his  heart. 
Far  sharper  than  a  spear. 

So  that  around  the  Moril  Glen 

Our  brave  young  men  did  He, 
With  limbs  as  lydder  and  as  lithe 

As  duddis  hung  out  to  dry. 

And  aye  the  tears  ran  down  in  streams 

O'er  cheeks  right  woe-begone; 
And  aye  they  gasped,  and  they  gratte. 

And  thus  made  piteous  moan :  — 

"Alack!  that  I  had  ever  been  bom. 

Or  dandelit  on  the  knee; 
Or  rockit  in  ane  cradle  bed. 

Beneath  a  mother's  e'e! 

"For  love  is  hke  the  fiery  flame 
That  quivers  through  the  rain. 

And  love  is  Hke  the  pang  of  death 
That  splits  the  heart  in  twain. 


140        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"If  I  had  loved  earthly  thing 

Of  earthly  blithesomeness, 
I  might  have  been  beloved  again, 

And  bathed  in  earthly  bliss. 

"But  I  have  loved  ane  freakish  Fay 

Of  frowardness  and  sin. 
With  heavenly  beauty  on  the  face. 

And  heart  of  stone  within!" 

PART  II 

But  word 's  gone  East,  and  word 's  gone  West, 

'Mong  high  and  low  degree. 
While  it  went  to  the  King  upon  the  throne, 

And  ane  wrathful  man  was  he. 

"What!"  said  the  King,  "and  shall  we  sit 

In  sackcloth  mourning  sad, 
While  all  mine  lieges  of  the  land 

For  ane  young  quean  run  mad? 

"Go,  saddle  me  my  milk-white  steed. 

Of  true  Megaira  brode; 
I  will  go  and  see  this  wondrous  dame. 

And  prove  her  by  the  Rode. 

"And  if  I  find  her  Elfin  Queen, 

Or  thing  of  Fairy  kind, 
I  will  burn  her  into  ashes  small. 

And  sift  them  on  the  wind." 


MAY  OF  THE  MORIL  GLEN       141 

The  King  hath  chosen  four-score  Knights, 

All  busked  gallantlye, 
And  he  is  away  to  the  Moril  Glen, 

As  fast  as  he  can  dree. 

And  when  he  came  to  the  Moril  Glen, 

Ae  morning  fair  and  clear, 
This  lovely  May  on  horseback  rode 

To  hunt  the  fallow  deer. 

Her  palfrey  was  of  snowy  hue, 

A  pale  unearthly  thing, 
That  revelled  over  hill  and  dale 

Like  bird  upon  the  wing. 

Her  screen  was  like  a  net  of  gold. 

That  dazzled  as  it  flew; 
Her  mantle  was  of  the  rainbow's  red, 

Her  rail  of  its  bonny  blue. 

A  golden  comb  with  diamonds  bright. 

Her  seemly  virgin  crown, 
Shone  like  the  new  moon's  lady-light 

O'er  cloud  of  amber  brown. 

The  lightning  that  shot  from  her  eyne. 

Flickered  like  Elfin  brand; 
It  was  sharper  nor  the  sharpest  spear 

Li  all  Northumberland. 


142        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  King  he  wheeled  him  round  about. 

And  calleth  to  his  men, 
"Yonder  she  comes,  this  wierdly  Witch, 

This  spirit  of  the  glen ! 

"Come,  rank  your  master  up  behind. 

This  serpent  to  belay; 
I  '11  let  you  hear  me  put  her  down, 

Li  grand  polemic  way.'* 

Swift  came  the  maid  o'er  strath  and  stron  - 
Nae  dantonit  dame  was  she,  — 

Until  the  King  her  path  withstood 
Li  might  and  majestye. 

The  virgin  cast  on  him  a  look, 

With  gay  and  graceful  air. 
As  on  something  below  her  note, 

That  ought  not  to  have  been  there. 

The  King,  whose  belt  was  like  to  burst, 

With  speeches  most  divine, 
Now  felt  ane  throbbing  of  the  heart. 

And  quaking  of  the  spine. 

And  aye  he  gasped  for  his  breath. 

And  gaped  in  dire  dismay, 
And  waved  his  arm,  and  smote  his  breast; 

But  word  he  could  not  say. 


IVIAY  OF  THE  MORIL  GLEN        U3 

The  spankie  grewis  they  scoured  the  dale. 

The  dun  deer  to  restrain; 
The  virgin  gave  her  steed  the  rein. 

And  followed,  might  and  main. 

"Go  bring  her  back,"  the  King  he  cried; 

"This  reifery  must  not  be. 
Though  you  should  bind  her  hands  and  feet. 

Go,  bring  her  back  to  me." 

The  deer  she  flew,  the  garf  and  grew 

They  followed  hard  behind; 
The  milk-white  palfrey  brushed  the  dew 

Far  fleeter  nor  the  wind. 

But  woe  betide  the  Lords  and  Knights, 

That  taiglit  in  the  dell ! 
For  though  with  whip  and  spur  they  pUed, 

Full  far  behind  they  feU. 

They  looked  out  o'er  their  left  shoulders. 

To  see  what  they  might  see. 
And  there  the  King,  in  fit  of  love, 

Lay  spurring  on  the  lea. 

And,  aye,  he  battered  mth  his  feet. 

And  rowted  with  despair, 
And  pulled  the  grass  up  by  the  roots. 

And  flung  it  on  the  air! 


144        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"What  ails,  what  ails  my  royal  Liege? 

Such  grief  I  do  deplore." 
"Oh,  I'm  bewitched,"  the  King  replied, 

"And  gone  forevermore! 

"Go,  bring  her  back!  —  go,  bring  her  back!  — 

Go,  bring  her  back  to  me ! 
For  I  must  either  die  of  love. 

Or  own  that  dear  Ladye ! " 

The  deer  was  slain;  the  royal  train 

Then  closed  the  virgin  round. 
And  then  her  fair  and  lily  hands 

Behind  her  back  were  bound. 

But  who  should  bind  her  winsome  feet?  — 

That  bred  such  strife  and  pain, 
That  sixteen  brave  and  belted  Knights 

Lay  gasping  on  the  plain. 

And  when  she  came  before  the  King, 

Ane  ireful  carle  was  he; 
Saith  he,  "Dame,  you  must  be  my  love. 

Or  burn  beneath  ane  tree." 


<< 


No,  I  can  ne'er  be  love  to  thee. 
Nor  any  lord  thou  hast; 
For  you  are  married  men  each  one, 
And  I  a  maiden  chaste. 


MAY  OF  TIIE  MORIL  GLEN       145 

"But  here  I  promise,  and  I  vow 

By  Scotland's  King  and  Crown, 
Who  first  a  widower  shall  prove, 

Shall  claim  me  as  his  own." 

The  King  hath  mounted  his  milk-white  steed, — 

One  word  he  said  not  more,  — 
And  he  is  away  from  the  Moril  Glen, 

As  ne'er  rode  King  before. 

And  every  Lord  and  every  Knight 

Made  off  his  several  way, 
All  galloping  as  they  had  been  mad, 

Withoutten  stop  or  stay. 

But  there  was  never  such  dole  and  pain 

In  any  land  befel; 
For  there  is  wickedness  in  man, 

That  grieveth  me  to  tell. 

There  was  one  eye,  and  one  alone. 

Beheld  the  deeds  were  done; 
But  the  lovely  Queen  of  Fair  Scotland 

Ne'er  saw  the  morning  sun. 

And  seventy-seven  wedded  dames. 

As  fair  as  e'er  were  bom, 
The  very  pride  of  all  the  land, 

Were  dead  before  the  morn. 


146        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

PART  III 

And  the  bonny  May  of  the  Moril  Glen 

Is  weeping  in  despair, 
For  she  saw  the  hills  of  fair  Scotland, 

Could  be  her  home  nae  mair. 

Then  there  were  chariots  came  o'er  night. 

As  silent  and  as  soon 
As  shadow  of  ane  little  cloud 

In  the  wan  light  of  the  moon. 

Some  said  they  came  out  of  the  rock. 

And  some  out  of  the  sea; 
And  some  said  they  were  sent  from  Hell 

To  bring  that  fair  Ladye. 

The  fairest  flower  of  mortal  frame 

Passed  from  the  Moril  Glen; 
And  ne'er  may  such  a  deadly  eye 

Shine  amongst  Christian  men ! 

In  seven  chariots,  gilded  bright, 

The  train  went  o'er  the  fell. 
All  wrapt  within  ane  shower  of  hail; 

Whither  no  man  could  tell. 

But  there  was  a  Ship  in  the  Firth  of  Forth, 
The  hke  ne'er  sailed  the  faeme. 

For  no  man  of  her  country  knew. 
Her  colours,  or  her  name. 


MAY  OF  THE  MORIL  GLEN        147 

Her  mast  was  made  of  beaten  gold^ 

Her  sails  of  the  silken  twine, 
And  a  thousand  pennons  streamed  behind, 

And  trembled  o'er  the  brine. 

As  she  lay  mirrored  in  the  main. 

It  was  a  comely  view, 
So  many  rainbows  round  her  played 

With  every  breeze  that  blew. 

And  the  hailstone  shroud  it  rattled  loud. 

Right  over  ford  and  fen. 
And  swathed  the  flower  of  the  Moril  Glen 

From  eyes  of  sinful  men. 

And  the  hailstone  shroud  it  wheeled  and  rowed, 

As  wan  as  death  unshriven. 
Like  dead  cloth  of  ane  Angel  grim. 

Or  winding  sheet  of  Heaven. 

It  was  a  fearsome  sight  to  see 

Toil  through  the  morning  grey, 
And  whenever  it  reached  the  comely  Ship, 

She  set  sail  and  away. 

She  set  her  sail  before  the  gale. 

As  it  began  to  sing, 
And  she  heaved  and  rocked  down  the  tide. 

Unlike  an  earthly  thing. 


148        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  dolphins  fled  out  of  her  way 

Into  the  creeks  of  Fife, 
And  the  blackguard  seals,  they  yowlit  for  dread. 

And  swam  for  death  and  life. 

But  aye  the  Ship,  the  bonny  Ship 

Out  o'er  the  green  wave  flew. 
Swift  as  the  solan  on  the  wing. 

Or  terrified  sea-mew. 

No  billow  breasted  on  her  prow. 

Nor  levelled  on  the  lee; 
She  seemed  to  sail  upon  the  air. 

And  never  touch  the  sea. 

And  away,  and  away  went  the  bonny  Ship, 

Which  man  never  more  did  see; 
But  whether  she  went  to  Heaven  or  Hell, 

Was  ne'er  made  known  to  me. 

The  Ettrick  Shepherd.  {Condensed) 

THE  LAIDLEY  WORM  O' 
SPINDLESTON-HEUGHS 

PART  I 

The  King  is  gone  from  Bambrough  Castle, 
Long  may  the  Princess  mourn; 

Long  may  she  stand  on  the  Castle  wall. 
Looking  for  his  return. 


THE  LAIDLEY  WORM  149 

She  has  knotted  the  keys  upon  a  string, 
And  with  Iier  she  has  them  taen, 

She  has  cast  them  o'er  her  left  shoulder. 
And  to  the  gate  she  is  gane. 

She  tripped  out,  she  tripped  in, 

She  tript  into  the  yard; 
But  it  was  more  for  the  King's  sake, 

Than  for  the  Queen's  regard. 

It  fell  out  on  a  day,  the  King 

Brought  the  Queen  with  him  home; 

And  all  the  Lords  in  our  countrj^ 
To  welcome  them  did  come. 

"Oh  welcome,  Father!"  the  Lady  cries, 

"Unto  your  halls  and  bowers; 
And  so  are  you,  my  Stepmother, 

For  all  that  is  here  is  yours." 

A  Lord  said,  wondering  while  she  spake, 

"This  Princess  of  the  North 
Surpasses  all  of  female  kind 

Li  beauty  and  in  worth." 

The  envious  Queen  replied,  "At  least. 

You  might  have  excepted  me: 
In  a  few  hours  I  will  her  bring 

Down  to  a  low  degree. 


150        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"I  will  her  liken  to  a  Laidley  Worm, 

That  warps  about  the  stone, 
And  not  till  Childy  Wynd  comes  back. 

Shall  she  again  be  won." 

PART  II 

The  Princess  stood  at  the  bower-door, 
Laughing,  who  could  her  blame? 

But  e'er  the  next  day's  sun  went  down, 
A  long  Worm  she  became. 

For  seven  miles  East,  and  seven  miles  West, 
And  seven  miles  North,  and  South, 

No  blade  of  grass  or  corn  could  grow, 
So  venomous  was  her  mouth. 

The  milk  of  seven  stately  cows  — 

It  was  costly  her  to  keep  — 
Was  brought  her  daily,  which  she  drank 

Before  she  went  to  sleep. 

At  this  day  may  be  seen  the  cave 

Which  held  her  folded  up. 
And  the  stone  trough  —  the  very  same  — 

Out  of  which  she  did  sup. 

Word  went  East,  and  word  went  West, 

And  word  is  gone  over  the  sea, 
That  a  Laidley  Worm  in  Spindleston-Heughs, 

Would  ruin  the  North  Countrie. 


I 


THE  LAIDLEY  WORM  151 

Word  went  East,  and  word  went  West, 

And  over  the  sea  did  go; 
The  Child  of  Wynd  got  wit  of  it. 

Which  filled  his  heart  with  woe. 

He  called  straight  his  merry  men  all. 

They  thirty  were  and  three: 
*'I  wish  I  were  at  Spindleston, 

This  desperate  Worm  to  see. 

"We  have  no  time  now  here  to  waste. 

Hence  quickly  let  us  sail: 
My  only  sister  Margaret 

Something,  I  fear,  doth  ail." 

They  built  a  ship  without  delay, 
With  masts  of  the  Rowan-Tree, 

With  fluttering  sails  of  silk  so  fine. 
And  set  her  on  the  sea. 

They  went  aboard;  the  wind  with  speed. 

Blew  them  along  the  deep; 
At  length  they  spied  an  huge  square  tower 

On  a  rock  high  and  steep. 

The  sea  was  smooth,  the  weather  clear; 

When  they  approached  nigher. 
King  Ida's  Castle  they  well  knew,  ' 

And  the  banks  of  Bambroughshire. 


152        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

PART  III 

The  Queen  looked  out  at  her  bower-window. 

To  see  what  she  could  see; 
There  she  espied  a  gallant  ship 

Sailing  upon  the  sea. 

When  she  beheld  the  silken  sails, 

Full  glancing  in  the  sun. 
To  sink  the  ship  she  sent  away 

Her  Witch  Wives  every  one. 

Their  spells  were  vain;  the  Hags  returned 
To  the  Queen  in  sorrowful  mood, 

Crying,  that  Witches  have  no  power 
Where  there  is  Rowan-Tree  wood. 

Her  last  effort,  she  sent  a  boat. 

Which  in  the  haven  lay. 
With  armed  men  to  board  the  ship. 

But  they  were  driven  away. 

The  Worm  leapt  up,  the  Worm  leapt  down, 

She  plaited  round  the  stane; 
And  aye,  as  the  ship  came  to  the  land, 

She  banged  it  off  again. 

The  Child  then  ran  out  of  her  reach 

The  ship  on  Budle-sand; 
And  jumping  into  the  shallow  sea. 

Securely  got  to  land. 


THE  LAIDLEY  WORM  153 

And  now  he  drew  his  berry-brown  sword. 

And  laid  it  on  her  head; 
And  swore,  if  she  did  harm  to  him. 

That  he  would  strike  her  dead. 

"Oh!  quit  thy  sword,  and  bend  thy  bow, 

And  give  me  kisses  three; 
For  though  I  am  a  poisonous  Worm,"" 

No  hurt  I  will  do  to  thee. 

"Oh!  quit  thy  sword,  and  bend  thy  bow, 

And  give  me  kisses  three; 
If  I  am  not  won  e'er  the  sun  go  down, 

Won  I  shall  never  be." 

He  quitted  his  sword,  he  bent  his  bow, 

He  gave  her  kisses  three: 
She  crept  into  a  hole  a  Worm, 

But  stept  out  a  Lady. 

No  clothing  had  this  Lady  fine, 

To  keep  her  from  the  cold; 
He  took  his  mantle  from  him  about. 

And  round  her  did  it  fold. 

He  has  taken  his  mantle  from  him  about, 

And  it  he  wrapt  her  in, 
And  they  are  up  to  Bambrough  Castle,' 

As  fast  as  they  can  win. 


154        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

PART  IV 

His  absence  and  her  serpent-shape. 
The  King  had  long  deplored; 

He  now  rejoiced  to  see  them  both 
Again  to  him  restored. 

The  Queen  they  wanted,  whom  they  found 

All  pale  and  sore  afraid, 
Because  she  knew  her  power  must  yield 

To  Childy  Wynd's,  who  said :  — 

"Woe  be  to  thee,  thou  wicked  Witch, 
An  ill  death  may  est  thou  dee; 

As  thou  my  sister  hast  likened. 
So  likened  shalt  thou  be. 

**I  will  turn  you  into  a  Toad, 
That  on  the  ground  doth  wend; 

And  won,  won,  shalt  thou  never  be, 
Till  this  world  hath  an  end." 


Now  on  the  sand  near  Ida's  tower, 
She  crawls  a  loathsome  Toad, 

And  venom  spits  on  every  maid 
She  meets  upon  her  road. 

The  virgins  all  of  Bambrough  town. 
Will  swear  that  they  have  seen 

This  spiteful  Toad,  of  monstrous  size, 
Whilst  walking  they  have  been. 


THE  LAIDLEY  WORM  155 

All  folks  believe  within  the  shire, 

This  story  to  be  true; 
And  they  all  run  to  Spindleston, 
,  The  cave  and  trough  to  view. 

This  fact  now  Duncan  Frasier, 

Of  Cheviot,  sings  in  rhyme, 
Lest  Bambroughshire  men  should  forget 

Some  part  of  it  in  time. 


MERRY  GESTES 


A  TRAGIC  STORY 

There  lived  a  sage  in  days  of  yore. 
And  he  a  handsome  pigtail  wore; 
But  wondered  much,  and  sorrowed  more. 
Because  it  hung  behind  him. 

He  mused  upon  this  curious  case. 
And  swore  he  'd  change  the  pigtail's  place. 
And  have  it  hanging  at  his  face. 
Not  dangling  there  behind  him. 

Says  he,  "  The  mystery  I  've  found,  — 
/  7/  turn  me  round,"  t—  he  turned  him  round; 
But  still  it  hung  behind  him. 

Then  round  and  round,  and  out  and  in. 
All  day  the  puzzled  sage  did  spin; 
In  vain  —  it  mattered  not  a  pin  — 
The  pigtail  hung  behind  him. 

And  right,  and  left,  and  round  about. 
And  up,  and  down,  and  in,  and  out 
He  turned;  but  still  the  pigtail  stout 
Hung  steadily  behind  him. 

And  though  his  efforts  never  slack. 
And  though  he  twist,  and  twirl,  and  tack, 
Alas!  still  faithful  to  his  back. 
The  pigtail  hangs  behind  him. 

William  Makepeace  Thackeray 
From  Chamisso 


HE  TURNED  HIM  ROUND; 
BUT  STILL  IT  HUNG  BEHIND  HIM 


LITTLE  BILLEE 

There  were  three  sailors  of  Bristol  city. 
Who  took  a  boat  and  went  to  sea. 
But  first  with  beef  and  captain's  biscuits 
And  pickled  pork  they  loaded  she. 

There  was  gorging  Jack  and  guzzling  Jimmy, 
And  the  youngest  he  was  little  Billee. 
Now  when  they  got  as  far  as  the  Equator 
They'd  nothing  left  but  one  split  pea. 

Says  gorging  Jack  to  guzzling  Jimmy, 
"I  am  extremely  hungaree." 
To  gorging  Jack  says  guzzling  Jimmy, 
"We've  nothing  left,  us  must  eat  we." 

Says  gorging  Jack  to  guzzling  Jimmy, 
"With  one  another  we  should  n't  agree! 
There's  little  Bill,  he's  young  and  tender. 
We're  old  and  tough,  so  let's  eat  he. 

"Oh!  Billy,  we're  going  to  kill  and  eat  you. 
So  undo  the  button  of  your  chemie." 
When  Bill  received  tliis  information, 
He  used  his  pocket  handkerchie. 


160        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"First  let  me  say  my  catechism. 
Which  my  poor  mammy  taught  to  me.'* 
"Make  haste,  make  haste,"  says  guzzling  Jimmy, 
While  Jack  pulled  out  his  snickersnee. 

So  Billy  went  up  to  the  main  top-gallant  mast. 
And  down  he  fell  on  his  bended  knee. 
He  scarce  had  come  to  the  twelfth  commandment 
When  up  he  jumps.  "There's  land  I  see: 

"Jerusalem  and  Madagascar, 
And  North  and  South  Amerikee: 
There's  the  British  flag  a-riding  at  anchor, 
With  Admiral  Napier,  K.  C.  B." 

So  when  they  got  aboard  of  the  Admiral's, 

He  hanged  fat  Jack  and  flogged  Jimmee; 

But  as  for  little  Bill  he  made  him 

The  Captain  of  a  Seventy-three. 

William  Makepeace  TJiackeray 

BRIAN  O'LINN 

Brian  O'Linn  was  a  gentleman  born. 
His  hair  it  was  long  and  his  beard  unshorn, 
His  teeth  were  out  and  his  eyes  far  in,  — 
"I'm  a  wonderful  beauty,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Linn  was  hard  up  for  a  coat. 

He  borrowed  the  skin  of  a  neighbouring  goat. 


BRLVN  O'LINN  161 

He  buckled  the  horns  right  under  his  chin,  — 
''They'll  answer  for  pistols,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Linn  had  no  breeches  to  wear, 
He  got  him  a  sheepskin  to  make  him  a  pair, 
With  the  fleshy  side  out  and  the  woolly  side  in,  — 
*'They  are  pleasant  and  cool,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Linn  had  no  hat  to  his  head, 
He  stuck  on  a  pot  that  was  under  the  shed. 
He  murdered  a  cod  for  the  sake  of  his  fin,  — 
*"T  will  pass  for  a  feather,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Linn  had  no  shirt  to  his  back. 

He  went  to  a  neighbour  and  borrowed  a  sack. 

He  puckered  a  meal-bag  under  his  chin,  — 

"  They'll  take  it  for  ruffles,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Linn  had  no  shoes  at  all. 

He  bought  an  old  pair  at  a  cobbler's  stall. 

The  uppers  were  broken  and  the  soles  were  thin, — 

*'  They  '11  do  me  for  dancing,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Lirni  had  no  watch  for  to  wear, 
He  bought  a  fine  turnip,  and  scooped  it  out  fair. 
He  slipped  a  live  cricket  right  under  the  skin,  — 
**  They  '11  think  it  is  ticking,"  says  Brian  O'Linn ! 

Brian  O'Linn  was  in  want  of  a  brooch, 
He  stuck  a  brass  pin  in  a  big  coackroach. 


162        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  breast  of  his  shirt  he  fixed  it  straight  in,  — 
"They'll   think   it's   a   diamond,"   says   Brian 
O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Linn  went  a-courting  one  night, 

He  set  both  the  mother  and  daughter  to  fight, — 

"Stop!  stop!"  he  exclaimed,  "if  you  have  but  the 

tin, 
I'll  marry  you  both,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 

Brian  O'Linn  went  to  bring  his  wife  home. 

He  had  but  one  horse,  that  was  all  skin  and  bone, 

"I'll  put  her  behind  me,  as  nate  as  a  pin. 

And  her  mother  before  me,"  says  Brian  O'Linn. 

Brian  O'Linn  and  his  wife  and  wife's  mother. 
They  all  crossed  over  the  bridge  together. 
The  bridge  broke  down  and  they  all  tumbled  in, — 
"We'll  go  home  by  water,"  says  Brian  O'Linn! 


DICKY  OF  BALLYMAN 

On  New  Year's  Day,  as  I  heard  say, 

Dicky  he  saddled  his  dapple  grey; 

He  put  on  his  Sunday  clothes. 

His  scarlet  vest,  and  his  new  made  hose. 
Diddle  dum  di,  diddle  dum  do. 
Diddle  dum  di,  diddle  dum  do! 


DICKY  OF  BALLYMAN  163 

He  rode  till  he  came  to  Wilson  Hall, 
There  he  rapped,  and  loud  did  call; 
INIistress  Ann  came  down  straightway, 
And  asked  him  what  he  had  to  say. 

"Don't  you  know  me.  Mistress  Ann? 
I  am  Dicky  of  Ballyman; 
An  honest  lad,  though  I  am  poor,  — 
I  never  was  in  love  before. 

*'I  have  an  uncle,  the  best  of  friends. 
Sometimes  to  me  a  fat  rabbit  he  sends; 
And  many  other  dainty  fowl. 
To  please  my  hfe,  my  joy,  my  soul. 

"Sometimes  I  reap,  sometimes  I  mow, 
And  to  the  market  I  do  go. 
To  sell  my  father's  corn  and  hay,  — 
I  earn  my  sixpence  every  day!'* 

"Oh,  Dicky!  you  go  beneath  your  mark,  — 

You  only  wander  in  the  dark; 

Sixpence  a  day  will  never  do, 

I  must  have  silks,  and  satins,  too ! 

"Besides,  Dickj^  I  must  have  tea 
For  my  breakfast,  every  day; 
And  after  dinner  a  bottle  of  wine,  — 
For  without  it  I  cannot  dine." 


164        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"If  on  fine  clothes  our  money  is  spent, 
Pray  how  shall  my  lord  be  paid  his  rent? 
He'll  expect  it  when  't  is  due,  — 
Believe  me,  what  I  say  is  true. 

"As  for  tea,  good  stirabout 
Will  do  far  better,  I  make  no  doubt; 
And  spring  water,  when  you  dine, 
Is  far  wholesomer  than  wine. 

"Potatoes,  too,  are  very  nice  food,  — 
I  don't  know  any  half  so  good : 
You  may  have  them  boiled  or  roast, 
Whichever  way  you  like  them  most." 

This  gave  the  company  much  delight, 
And  made  them  all  to  laugh  outright; 
So  Dicky  had  no  more  to  say. 
But  saddled  his  dapple  and  rode  away. 
Diddle  dum  di,  diddle  dum  do. 
Diddle  dum  d%  diddle  dum  do! 


THE  BALLAD  OF  THE  OYSTERMAN 

It  was  a  tall  young  Oysterman  hved  by  the  river- 
side. 

His  shop  was  just  upon  the  bank,  his  boat  was  on 
the  tide; 


THE  BALLAD  OF  THE  OYSTERMAN    165 

The  daughter  of  a  Fisherman,  that  was  so  straight 

and  slim. 
Lived  over  on  the  other  bank,  right  opposite  to 

him. 

It  was  the  pensive  Oysterman  that  saw  a  lovely 

maid, 
Upon  a  moonlight  evening,  a-sitting  in  the  shade; 
He  saw  her  wave  her  handkerchief,  as  much  as  if 

to  say, 
**I'm  wide  awake,  young  Oysterman,  and  all  the 

folks  away." 

Then  up  arose  the  Oysterman,  and  to  himself 

said  he, 
*'I  guess  I'll  leave  the  skiff  at  home,  for  fear  that 

folks  should  see; 
I  read  it  in  the  story-book,  that,  for  to  kiss  his 

dear, 
Leander  swam  the  Hellespont,  —  and  I  will  swim 

this  here." 

And  he  has  leaped  into  the  waves,  and  crossed 

the  shining  stream. 
And  he  has  clambered  up  the  bank,  all  in  the 

moonlight  gleam; 
Oh !  there  were  kisses  sweet  as  dew,  and  words  as 

soft  as  rain,  — 
But  they  have  heard  her  father's  step,  and  in  he 

leaps  again! 


166        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Out  spoke  the  ancient  Fisherman,  —  *'0h!  what 

was  that,  my  daughter?" 
'"Twas  nothing  but  a  pebble,  sir,  I  threw  into 

the  water." 
"And   what  is   that,   pray   tell   me,   love,   that 

paddles  off  so  fast?" 
"It's  nothing  but  a  porpoise,  sir,  that's  been  a 

swimming  past." 

Out  spoke  the  ancient  Fisherman,  —  "Now  bring 
me  my  harpoon ! 

I'll  get  into  my  fishing-boat,  and  fix  the  fellow 
soon." 

Down  fell  that  pretty  innocent,  as  falls  a  snow- 
white  lamb, 

Her  hair  drooped  round  her  pallid  cheeks,  like 
seaweed  on  a  clam. 

Alas,  for  those  two  loving  ones!  she  waked  not 

from  her  s wound. 
And  he  was  taken  with  the  cramp,  and  in  the 

waves  was  drowned; 
But  Fate  has  metamorphosed  them,  in  pity  of 

their  woe. 
And  now  they  keep  an  oyster-shop  for  Mermaids 

down  below. 

OUver  Wendell  Holmes 


THE  CINDER  KING  1G7 

THE  CINDER  KING 

Who  is  it  that  sits  in  the  kitchen  and  weeps, 
While  tick  goes  the  clock,   and    the  tabby-cat 

sleeps,  — 
That  watches  the  grate,  without  ceasing  to  spy 
Whether  purses  or  cojQBns  will  out  of  it  fly? 

*T  is  Betty;  who  saw  the  false  tailor,  Bob  vScott, 
Lead  a  bride  to  the  altar,  which  bride  she  was  not. 
*T  is  Betty,  determined  love  from  her  to  fling. 
And  woo,  for  his  riches,  the  dark  Cinder-King. 

Now  spent  tallow-candle-grease  fattened  the  soil. 
And  the  blue-burning  lamp  had  half  wasted  its  oil, 
And  the  black-beetle  boldly  came  crawling  from 

far. 
And  the  red  coals  were  sinking  beneath  the  third 

bar; 

When  "one!"  struck  the  clock  —  and  instead  of 

the  bird 
Wlio  used  to  sing  cuckoo  whene'er  the  clock  stirred. 
Out  burst  a  grim  raven,  and  uttered  "caw!  caw!  " 
While  Puss,  though  she  woke,  durst  not  put  forth 

a  claw. 

Then  the  jack  fell  a-going  as  if  one  should  sup, 
Then  the  earth  rocked  as  though  it  would  swallow 
one  up; 


168        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

With  fuel  from  Hell,  a  strange  coal-scuttle  came. 
And  a  self -handled  poker  made  fearful  the  flame. 

A  cinder  shot  from  it,  of  size  to  amaze. 

With  a  bounce,  such  as  Betty  ne'er  heard  in  her 

days. 
Thrice,  serpent-like,  hissed  as  its  heat  fled  away. 
And,  lo !  something  dark  in  a  vast  cofiin  lay ! 

"Come,  Betty,"  quoth  croaking  that  nondescript 
thing, 

"  Come,  bless  the  fond  arms  of  your  true  Cinder- 
King! 

Three  more  Kings,  my  brothers,  are  waiting  to 
greet  ye, 

Who  —  don't  take  it  ill  —  must  at  four  o'clock 
eat  ye. 

"My  darling!  it  must  be,  do  make  up  your  mind; 

W'e  element  brothers,  united,  and  kind. 

Have  a  feast  and  a  wedding,  each  night  of  our 

lives, 
So  constantly  sup  on  each  other's  new  wives." 

In  vain  squalled  the  cook-maid,  and  prayed  not  to 

wed; 
Cinder  crunched  in  her  mouth,  cinder  rained  on 

her  head. 
She  sank  in  the  coffin  with  cinders  strewn  o'er, 
'And  coffin  nor  Betty  saw  man  any  more. 

Modern,  anon. 


THE  FROLICKSOIME  DUKE         1G9 

THE  FROLICKSOME  DUKE;  OR, 
THE  TINKER'S  GOOD  FORTUNE 

Now,  as  fame  does  report,  a  young  Duke  keeps  a 

Court, 
One  that  pleases  his  fancy  with  f roHcksome  sport : 
But  amongst  all  the  rest,  here  is  one,  I  protest. 
Which  will  make  you  to  smile  when  you  hear  the 

true  jest: 
A  poor  Tinker  he  found,  lying  drunk  on  the 

ground. 
As  secure  in  a  sleep  as  if  laid  in  a  swound. 

The  Duke  said  to  his  men,  "Wilham,  Richard, 
and  Ben, 

Take  him  home  to  my  palace;  we'll  sport  with  Iiim 
then." 

O'er  a  horse  he  was  laid,  and  with  care  soon  con- 
veyed 

To  the  palace,  altho'  he  was  poorly  arrai'd : 

Then  they  stript  off  his  cloaths,  both  his  shirt, 
shoes,  and  hose, 

And  they  put  him  to  bed  for  to  take  his  repose. 

Having  pulled  off  his  shirt,  which  was  all  over 

durt, 
They  did  give  him  clean  holland,  this  was  no  great 

hurt: 


170        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

On  a  bed  of  soft  down,  like  a  lord  of  renown, 
They  did  lay  him  to  sleep  the  drink  out  of  his 

crown. 
In  the  morning,  when  day,  then  admiring  he  lay. 
For  to  see  the  rich  chamber,  both  gaudy  and  gay. 

Now  he  lay  something  late,  in  his  rich  bed  of  state, 
Till  at  last  Kiiights  and  Squires  they  on  him  did 

wait; 
And  the  chamberling  bare,  then  did  likewise  de- 
clare, 
He  desired  to  know  what  apparel  he  'd  ware : 
The  poor  Tinker  amazed,  on  the  gentleman  gazed. 
And  admired  how  he  to  this  honour  was  raised. 

Tho'  he  seemed  something  mute,  yet  he  chose  a 
rich  suit, 

Which  he  straitways  put  on  without  longer  dis- 
pute; 

With  a  star  on  his  side,  which  the  Tinker  off't 
eyed, 

And  it  seemed  for  to  swell  him  no  little  with  pride; 

For  he  said  to  himself,  "Where  is  Joan  my  sweet 
wife? 

Sure  she  never  did  see  me  so  fine  in  her  life." 

From  a  convenient  place,  the  right  Duke,  his  good 

grace. 
Did  observe  his  behaviour  in  every  case. 


THE  FROLICKSOME  DUKE         171 

To  a  garden  of  state,  on  the  Tinker  they  wait, 
Trumpets   sounding    before    him:    thought    he, 

"This  is  great!" 
Where  an  hour  or  two,  pleasant  walks  he  did  view. 
With  Commanders  and   Squires  in  scarlet  and 

blew. 

A  fine  dinner  was  drest,  both  for  him  and  his  guests. 
He  was  placed  at  the  table  above  all  the  rest. 
In  a  rich  chair  or  bed  lined  with  fine  crimson  red. 
With  a  rich  golden  canopy  over  his  head : 
As  he  sat  at  his  meat,  the  musick  played  sweet. 
With  the  choicest  of  singing  his  joys  to  compleat. 

While  the  Tinker  did  dine,  he  had  plenty  of  wine, 
Rich  canary,  with  sherry  and  tent  superfine. 
Like  a  right  honest  soul,  faith,  he  took  off  his  bowl. 
Till  at  last  he  began  for  to  tumble  and  roul 
From  his  chair  to  the  floor,  where  he  sleeping  did 

snore. 
Being  seven  times  drunker  than  ever  before. 

Then  the  Duke  did  ordain,  they  should  strip  him 

amain. 
And  restore  him  his  old  leather  garments  again : 
'T  was  a  point  next  the  worst,  yet  perform  it  they 

must. 
And  they  carry ed  him  strait  where  they  found  him 

at  first: 


172        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Then  he  slept  all  the  night,  as  indeed  well  he 

might; 
But  when  he  did  waken,  his  joys  took  their  flight. 

For  his  glory  to  him  so  pleasant  did  seem. 
That  he  thought  it  to  be  but  a  meer  golden  dream; 
Till  at  length  he  was  brought  to  the  Duke,  where 

he  sought 
For  a  pardon,  as  fearing  he  had  set  him  at  nought: 
But  his  Highness  he  said,  "Thou'rt  a  jolly  bold 

blade : 
Such  a  frolick  before,  I  think,  never  was  plaid." 

Then  his  Highness  bespoke  him  a  new  suit  and 

cloak,  .^ 

Which  he  gave  for  the  sake  of  this  frolicksome 

joak: 
Nay,  and  five-hundred  pound,  with  ten  acres  of 

ground : 
" Thou  shalt  never,"  said  he,  "range  the  counteries 

round. 
Crying  'old  brass  to  mend,'  for  I'll  be  thy  good 

friend. 
Nay,  and  Joan  thy  sweet  wife  shall  my  Duchess 

attend." 

Then  the  Tinker  replyed;  "What!  must  Joan  my 

sweet  bride 
Be  a  Lady  in  chariots  of  pleasure  to  ride? 


KING  JAMES  AND  THE  TINKLER    173 

Must  we  have  gold  and  land  ev'ry  day  at  com- 
mand ? 

Then  I  shall  be  a  Squire,  I  well  understand : 

Well  I  thank  your  good  grace,  and  your  love  I 
embrace; 

I  was  never  before  in  so  happy  a  case ! " 

KING  JAMES  THE  FIRST  AND  THE 

TINKLER 

And  now,  to  be  brief,  let 's  pass  over  the  rest, 
Who  seldom  or  never  were  given  to  jest, 
And  come  to  King  Jamie,  the  first  of  our  throne, 
A  pleasanter  Monarch  sure  never  was  known. 

As  he  was  a-hunting  the  swift  fallow-deer, 

He  dropped  all  his  nobles ;  and  when  he  got  clear, 

In  hope  of  some  pastime  away  he  did  ride, 

Till  he  came  to  an  alehouse,  hard  by  a  wood-side. 

And  there  with  a  Tinkler  he  happened  to  meet, 
And  him  in  kind  sort  he  so  freely  did  greet : 
"Pray  thee,  good  fellow,  what  hast  in  thy  jug. 
Which  under  thy  arm  thou  dost  lovingly  hug?" 

"By  the  mass!"  quoth  the  Tinkler,  "it's  nappy 

brown  ale, 
And  for  to  drink  to  thee,  friend,  I  will  not  fail; 
For  although  thy  jacket  looks  gallant  and  fine, 
I  think  that  my  twopence  as  good  is  as  thine." 


174        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

*'By  my  soul!  honest  fellow,  the  truth  thou  hast 

spoke," 
And  straight  he  sat  down  with  the  Tinkler  to 

joke; 
They  drank  to  the  King,  and  they  pledged  to  each 

other; 
Who'd  seen  'em  had  thought  they  were  brother 

and  brother. 

As  they  were  a-drinking  the  King  pleased  to  say, 
"What  news,   honest  fellow?  come  tell  me,   I 

pray?" 
"There's  nothing  of  news,  beyond  that  I  hear 
The  King's  on  the  border  a-chasing  the  deer. 

"And  truly  I  wish  I  so  happy  may  be 
Whilst  he  is  a-hunting  the  King  I  might  see; 
For  although  I  've  travelled  the  land  many  ways 
I  never  have  yet  seen  a  King  in  my  days." 

The  King,  with  a  hearty  brisk  laughter,  replied.. 
"I  tell  thee,  good  fellow,  if  thou  canst  but  ride. 
Thou  shalt  get  up  behind  me,  and  I  will  thee  bring 
To  the  presence  of  Jamie,  thy  sovereign  King." 

"But  he'll  be  surrounded  with  nobles  so  gay, 
And  how  shall  we  tell  him  from  them,  sir,  I  pray?  " 
"  Thou  'It  easily  ken  him  when  once  thou  art  there ; 
The  King  will  be  covered,  his  nobles  all  bare." 


KING  JiV^IES  AND  THE  TINKLER    175 

He  got  up  behind  him  and  hkewise  his  sack. 
His  budget  of  leather,  and  tools  at  his  back; 
They  rode  till  they  came  to  the  merry  Greenwood, 
His  nobles  came  round  him,  bareheaded  they 
stood. 


The  Tinkler  then  seeing  so  many  appear, 
He  shly  did  whisper  the  King  in  his  ear; 
Saying,  "They're  all  clothed  so  gloriously  gay, 
But  which  amongst  them  is  the  Eing,  sir,  I  pray? 


» 


The  King  did  with  hearty  good  laughter,  reply, 
*'By  my  soul!  my  good  fellow,  it's  thou  or  it's  I! 
The  rest  are  bareheaded,  uncovered  all  round  "  — 
With  his   bag   and   his  budget  he  fell  to  the 
ground. 

Like  one  that  was  frightened  quite  out  of  his  wits. 
Then  on  his  knees  he  instantly  gets. 
Beseeching  for  mercy;  the  King  to  him  said, 
"Thou  art  a  good  fellow,  so  be  not  afraid. 

"Come,  tell  thy  name."  "I  am  Jolm  of  the  Dale, 
A  mender  of  kettles,  a  lover  of  ale.** 
"Rise  up,  Sir  John,  I  will  honour  thee  here,  — 
I  make  thee  a  Knight  of  three  thousand  a  year!" 

This  was  a  good  thing  for  the  Tinkler  indeed; 
Then  unto  the  Court  he  was  sent  for  with  speed. 


176        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Where  great  store  of  pleasure  and  pastime  was 

seen, 
In  the  royal  presence  of  King  and  of  Queen. 

Sir  John  of  the  Dale  he  has  land,  he  has  fee. 
At  the  Court  of  the  King  who  so  happy  as  he? 
Yet  still  in  his  hall  hangs  the  Tinkler's  old  sack, 
And  the  budget  of  tools  which  he  bore  at  his 
back. 

KING  ALFRED  AND  THE  SHEPHERD 

PAET  I  —  WHEREIN  KING  ALFRED  FIGHTS  FOR 

HIS  DINNER 

In  elder  time  there  was  of  yore, 

When  gibes  of  churlish  glee 
Were  used  among  our  country  carles, 

Tho'no  such  thing  now  be: 

The  which  King  Alfred  liking  well. 

Forsook  his  stately  Court, 
And  in  disguise  unknown  went  forth 

To  see  that  jovial  sport; 

How  Dick  and  Tom  in  clouted  shoon, 

And  coats  of  russet  grey, 
Esteemed  themselves  more  brave  than  them 

That  went  in  golden  ray. 


KING  ALFRED  AND  TIIE  SHEPHERD    177 

In  garments  fit  for  such  a  life 

The  good  King  Alfred  went, 
Ragged  and  torn  as  from  his  back 

The  beggar  his  clothes  had  rent. 

A  sword  and  buckler  good  and  strong, 

To  give  Jack  Sauce  a  rap; 
And  on  his  head,  instead  of  a  crown, 
He  wore  a  Monmouth  cap. 

Thus  coasting  thorough  Somersetsliire: 

Near  Newton-Court  he  met 
A  shepherd  swain  of  lusty  limb. 

That  up  and  down  did  jet: 

He  wore  a  bonnet  of  good  grey. 

Close-buttoned  to  his  cliin; 
And  at  his  back  a  leather  scrip, 

With  much  good  meat  therein. 

"God  speed,  good  Shepherd,"  quoth  the  King 

"I  come  to  be  thy  guest. 
To  taste  of  thy  good  victuals  here. 

And  drink  that's  of  the  best. 

"Thy  scrip,  I  know  hath  cheer  good  store": 
"What  then?"  the  Shepherd  said, 

"Thou  seem'st  to  be  some  sturdy  thief, 
And  mak'st  me  sore  afraid. 


178        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 


<< 


Yet  if  thou  wilt  thy  dinner  vdn. 
Thy  sword  and  buckler  take: 
And,  if  thou  canst,  into  my  scrip 
Therewith  an  entrance  make. 

"I  tell  thee,  roister,  it  hath  store 

Of  beef  and  bacon  fat. 
With  sheaves  of  barley-bread  to  make 

Thy  chaps  to  water  at! 

*'Here  stands  my  bottle,  here  my  bag. 
If  thou  canst  win  them,  roister; 

Against  thy  sword  and  buckler  here, 
My  sheep-hook  is  my  master." 

*'Benedic{teI**  quoth  our  good  Bang 

"It  never  shall  be  said, 
That  AKred,  of  the  Shepherd's  hook. 

Will  stand  a  whit  afraid." 

So  foundly  thus  they  both  fell  to 't, 

And  giving  bang  for  bang; 
At  ev'ry  blow  the  Shepherd  gave 

King  Alfred's  sword  cried  twang! 

His  buckler  proved  his  chief  est  fence; 

For  still  the  Shepherd's  hook 
Was  that  the  which  King  Alfred  could 

In  no  good  manner  brook. 


KING  ALFRED  AND  TIIE  SHEPHERD    179 

At  last,  when  they  had  fought  four  hours. 

And  it  grew  just  midday, 
And  wearied  both,  with  right  good  will. 
Desired  each  other's  stay: 

"A  truce,  I  crave,"  quoth  Alfred  then 
"Good  Shepherd,  hold  thy  hand, 

A  sturdier  fellow  than  thyself 
Lives  not  within  the  land!" 

"Nor  a  lustier  roister  than  thou  art," 

The  churlish  Shepherd  said; 
"To  tell  thee  plain,  thy  thievish  look 

Now  makes  my  heart  afraid. 

"Else  sure  thou  art  some  prodigal. 
Which  hast  consumed  thy  store. 

And  now  com'st  wand'ring  in  this  place 
To  rob  and  steal  for  more." 

"Deem  not  of  me,  then,"  quoth  our  King, 

"Good  Shepherd,  in  this  sort. 
A  gentleman  well  known  I  am 

Li  good  King  Alfred's  Court." 

PART    II  —  WHEREIN    KING    ALFRED    BECOMES 

A  SHEPHERD 

"The  Devil  thou  art!"  the  Shepherd  said, 

"Thou  go'st  in  rags  all  torn; 
Thou  rather  seem'st,  I  think,  to  be 

Some  beggar  basely  born. 


180        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"But  if  thou  wilt  mend  thy  estate, 

And  here  a  shepherd  be; 
At  night,  to  GilHan,  my  sweet  wife. 

Thou  shalt  go  home  with  me: 

"For  she's  as  good  a  toothless  dame 
As  mumbleth  on  brown  bread; 

Where  thou  shalt  lie  in  burden  sheets. 
Upon  a  fresh  straw  bed. 

**0f  whig  and  whey  we  have  good  store. 
And  keep  good  pease-straw  fire; 

And  now  and  then  good  barley  cakes. 
As  better  days  require. 

"But  for  my  master,  which  is  Chief 
And  Lord  of  Newton-Court, 

He  keeps,  I  say,  his  shepherd  swains 
In  far  more  braver  sort; 

"We  there  have  curds  and  clouted  cream 
Of  red  cow's  morning  milk; 

And  now  and  then  fine  buttered  cakes 
As  soft  as  any  silk. 

"Of  beef  and  reifed  bacon  store. 
That  is  most  fat  and  greasy, 

We  have  likewise,  to  feed  our  chaps 
And  make  them  glib  and  easy. 


KING  ALFRED  AND  TIIE  SIIEPIIERD    181 

"Thus  if  thou  wilt  my  man  become, 

This  usage  thou  shalt  have; 
K  not,  adieu;  go  hang  thyself; 

And  so  farewell.  Sir  Knave." 

King  Alfred  hearing  of  this  glee 

The  churHsh  Shepherd  said. 
Was  well  content  to  be  his  man; 

So  they  a  bargain  made; 

A  penny  round  the  Shepherd  gave 

In  earnest  of  this  match, 
To  keep  his  sheep  in  field  and  fold. 

As  shepherds  use  to  watch. 

His  wages  shall  be  full  ten  groats, 

For  service  of  a  year, 
Yet  was  it  not  his  use,  old  lad, 

To  hire  a  man  so  dear: 

"For,  did  the  King  himself,"  quoth  he, 

"Unto  my  cottage  come, 
He  should  not,  for  a  twelve-month's  pay. 

Receive  a  greater  sum." 

PART  III  —  WHEREIN  KING  ALFRED  BURNS  THE 

CAKES 

Hereat  the  bonny  King  grew  blithe, 

To  hear  the  clownish  jest; 
How  silly  sots,  as  custom  is. 

Do  descant  at  the  best. 


182        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

But  not  to  spoil  the  foolish  sport. 

He  was  content,  good  King, 
To  fit  the  Shepherd's  humour  right 

Li  ev'ry  kind  of  thing. 

A  sheep-hook  then,  with  Patch  his  dog. 

And  tar-box  by  his  side; 
He,  with  his  master,  cheek  by  jowl. 

Unto  old  Gillian  hied. 

Into  whose  sight  no  sooner  come, 
*'Whom  have  you  here?"  quoth  she, 

"A  fellow,  I  doubt,  will  cut  our  throats, 
So  like  a  knave  looks  he." 

*'Not  so,  old  Dame,"  quoth  Alfred  straight, 

"Of  me  you  need  not  fear; 
My  master  hired  me  for  ten  groats, 

To  serve  you  one  whole  year: 

"So,  good  Dame  Gillian,  grant  me  leave 

Within  your  house  to  stay; 
For,  by  St.  Anne,  do  what  you  can, 

I  will  not  yet  away." 

Her  churlish  usage  pleased  him  still. 

And  put  him  to  such  proof. 
That  he  at  night  was  almost  choked 

Within  that  smoky  roof. 


i 


I 


KING  ALFRED  AND  THE  SHEPHERD    183 

But  as  he  sat  with  smih'ng  cheer 

The  event  of  all  to  see, 
His  dame  brought  forth  a  piece  of  dough 

Which  in  the  fire  throws  she. 

Where  lying  on  the  hearth  to  bake, 

By  chance,  the  cake  did  burn: 
"What!  canst  thou  not,  thou  lout,"  quoth  she, 

"  Take  pains  the  same  to  turn? 

"Thou  art  more  quick  to  take  it  out, 

And  eat  it  up  half  dough. 
Than  thus  to  stay  till 't  be  enough. 

And  so  thy  manners  show! 

"But  serve  me  such  another  trick, 

I'll  thwack  thee  on  the  snout:'* 
'Which  made  the  patient  King,  poor  man, 

Of  her  to  stand  in  doubt. 

PART  IV WHEREIN  KING  ALFRED  BLOWS  HIS 

BUGLE-HORN 

But,  to  be  brief,  to  bed  they  went 

The  old  man  and  his  wife; 
But  never  such  a  lodging  had 

King  Alfred  in  his  life ! 

For  he  was  laid  in  white  sheep's  wool, 

New-pulled  from  tanned  fells; 
And  o'er  his  head  hanged  spiders'  webs 

As  if  they  had  been  bells. 


184        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Is  this  the  country  guise?"  thought  he, 

"Then  here  I  will  not  stay, 
But  hence  be  gone,  as  soon  as  breaks 

The  peeping  of  next  day!" 

The  cackling  hens  and  geese  kept  roost. 

And  perched  at  his  side; 
Where,  at  the  last,  the  watchful  cock 

Made  known  the  morning  tide. 

Then  up  got  Alfred,  with  his  horn. 

And  blew  so  long  a  blast. 
That  it  made  Gillian  and  her  groom, 

In  bed,  full  sore  aghast. 


"o' 


"Arise,"  quoth  she,  "We  are  undone! 

This  night  we  lodged  have. 
At  unawares,  within  our  house, 

A  false  dissembling  knave. 

"Rise!  husband,  rise!  he'll  cut  our  throats! 

He  calleth  for  his  mates. 
I'd  give,  old  Will,  our  good  cade  lamb. 

He  would  depart  our  gates!" 

But  still  King  Alfred  blew  his  horn. 

Before  them,  more  and  more. 
Till  that  an  hundred  Lords  and  Knights 

All  lighted  at  the  door. 


KING  ALFRED  AND  THE  SHEPHERD    185 

Who  cried,  "All  hail!  all  hail,  good  King! 

Long  have  we  sought  your  Grace!" 
*'And  here  you  find,  my  merry  men  all, 

Your  Sov'reign  in  this  place." 

"We  surely  must  be  hanged  up  both. 

Old  Gillian,  I  much  fear," 
The  Shepherd  said,  "  for  using  thus. 

Our  good  King  Alfred  here." 

"Oh,  pardon,  my  Liege!"  quoth  Gilhan  then, 

"For  my  husband,  and  for  me. 
By  these  ten  bones,  I  never  thought 

The  same  that  now  I  see!" 

"And  by  my  hook,"  the  Shepherd  said, 

"An  oath  both  good  and  true! 
Before  this  time,  O  noble  King, 

I  ne'er  your  Highness  knew! 

"Then  pardon  me  and  my  old  wife, 

That  we  may  after  say, 
WTien  first  you  came  into  our  house, 

It  was  a  happy  day." 

"It  shall  be  done,"  said  Alfred  straight, 

"And  Gillian,  thy  old  dame. 
For  this  her  churlish  using  me, 

Deserveth  not  much  blame: 


186        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"For  'tis  thy  country  guise,  I  see. 

To  be  thus  bluntish  still, 
And  where  the  plainest  meaning  is. 

Remains  the  smallest  ill. 

"And,  Master,  lo!  I  tell  thee  now; 

For  thy  late  manhood  shown, 
A  thousand  wethers  I'll  bestow 

Upon  thee,  for  thy  own; 

"And  pasture-ground,  as  much  as  will 

Suffice  to  feed  them  all: 
And  this  thy  cottage,  I  will  change 

Into  a  stately  hall." 

"And  for  the  same,  as  duty  binds," 
The  Shepherd  said,  "  good  King, 

A  milk-white  lamb,  once  ev'ry  year, 
I'll  to  your  Highness  bring: 

"And  Gillian,  my  wife,  likewise. 

Of  wool  to  make  you  coats. 
Will  give  you  as  much  at  New  Year's  tide. 

As  shall  be  worth  ten  groats. 

"And  in  your  praise  my  bag-pipes  shall 

Sound  sweetly  once  a  year, 
How  Alfred,  our  renowned  King, 

Most  kindly  hath  been  here." 


KING  ALFRED  AND  THE  SHEPHERD    187 

"Thanks,  Shepherd,  thanks,"  quoth  he  again: 
■  *'The  next  time  I  come  hither. 
My  Lords  with  me,  here  in  this  house, 
Will  all  be  merry  together." 


SAD  GESTES 


THE  SANDS  OF  DEE 

"  0  Mary,  go  and  call  the  cattle  home. 
And  call  the  cattle  home. 
And  call  the  cattle  home 
Across  the  sands  of  Dee;" 
The  western  wind  was  wild  and  dank  toT  foam. 
And  all  alone  went  she. 

The  western  tide  crept  up  along  the  sand. 
And  o'er  and  o'er  the  sand. 
And  round  and  round  the  sand. 
As  far  as  eye  could  see. 
The  rolling  mist  came  down  and  hid  the  land  —  ! 

And  never  home  came  she. 

"Oh!  is  it  weed,  or  fish,  or  floating  hair  — 
A  tress  o'  golden  hair, 
A  drowned  maiden's  hair 
Above  the  nets  at  sea? 
Was  never  salmon  yet  that  shone  so  fair 
Among  the  stakes  on  Dee." 

They  rowed  her  in  across  the  rolling  foam. 
The  cruel  crawling  foam. 
The  cruel  hungry  foam 
To  her  grave  beside  the  sea: 
Bui  still  the  boatmen  hear  her  call  the  cattle  home 
Across  the  sands  of  Dee! 

Charles  Kingsley 


FAIR  ANNY  OF  ROCII-ROYAL 

PART  I 

"O  wiiA  will  shoe  my  fu  fair  foot? 

An  wha  will  glove  my  han? 
An  wha  will  lace  my  middle  gimp 

Wi  the  new  made  London  ban? 

"Or  w^ha  will  kemb  my  yallow  hair, 

Wi  the  new  made  silver  kemb? 
Or  wha  '11  be  father  to  my  young  bairn, 

Till  Love  Gregor  come  hame?" 

Her  father  shoed  her  fu  fair  foot. 

Her  mother  glovd  her  han; 
Her  sister  lac'd  her  middle  gimp 

Wi  the  new  made  London  ban. 

Her  brother  kembd  her  yallow  hair, 

Wi  the  new  made  silver  kemb, 
But  the  king  o  heaven  maun  father  her  bairn. 

Till  Love  Gregor  come  hame. 

**0  gin  I  had  a  bony  ship. 

An  men  to  sail  wi  me, 
It's  I  would  gang  to  my  true-love. 

Since  he  winna  come  to  me." 


192        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Her  father's  gien  her  a  bonny  ship, 

An  sent  her  to  the  stran; 
She 's  tane  her  young  son  in  her  arms, 

An  turnd  her  back  to  the  Ian. 

She  had  na  been  o  the  sea  saillin 

About  a  month  or  more, 
Till  landed  has  she  her  bonny  ship 

Near  her  true-love's  door. 

The  night  was  dark,  an  the  win  blew  caul, 

An  her  love  was  fast  asleep, 
An  the  bairn  that  was  in  her  twa  arms 

Fu  sair  began  to  weep. 

Long  stood  she  at  her  true-love's  door. 

An  lang  tirld  at  the  pin; 
At  length  up  gat  his  fa'se  mither. 

Says,  "Wha's  that  woud  be  in?" 

"O  it  is  Anny  of  Roch-royal, 

Your  love,  come  oer  the  sea, 
But  an  your  young  son  in  her  arms; 

So  open  the  door  to  me." 

*'Awa,  awa,  you  ill  woman, 
You've  na  come  here  for  gude; 

You  're  but  a  witch,  or  wile  warlock. 
Or  mermaid  o  the  flude." 


FAIR  ANNY  OF  ROCII-ROYAL      193 

"I'm  na  a  witch,  or  wile  warlock, 

Nor  mermaiden,"  said  she; 
"I'm  but  Fair  Anny  o  Roch-royal; 

0  open  the  door  to  me." 

"O  gin  ye  be  Anny  o  Roch-royal, 

As  I  trust  not  ye  be, 
What  taiken  can  ye  gie  that  ever 

1  kept  your  company?" 

"O  dinna  ye  mind,  Love  Gregor,"  she  says, 

"Whan  we  sat  at  the  w4ne, 
How  we  changed  the  napkins  frae  our  necks. 

It's  na  sae  lang  sin  syne? 

"An  yours  w^as  good,  an  good  enough, 

But  nae  sae  good  as  mine; 
For  yours  was  o  the  cumbruk  clear. 

But  mine  was  silk  sae  fine. 

"An  dinna  ye  mind,  Love  Gregor,"  she  says, 

"As  we  twa  sat  at  dine. 
How  we  changed  the  rings  frae  our  fingers. 

But  ay  the  best  was  mine? 

"For  yours  was  good,  an  good  enough. 

Yet  nae  sae  good  as  mine; 
For  yours  was  of  the  good  red  gold, 

But  mine  o  the  diamonds  fine. 


194        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Sae  open  the  door  now,  Love  Gregor, 

An  open  it  wi  speed, 
Or  your  young  son  that  is  in  my  arms 

For  cauld  will  soon  be  dead." 

**Awa,  awa,  you  ill  woman, 
Gae  frae  my  door  for  shame; 

For  I  hae  gotten  another  fair  love, 
Sae  ye  may  hye  you  hame." 

*'0  hae  you  gotten  another  fair  love, 
For  a'  the  oaths  you  sware? 

Then  fair  you  well  now,  fa'se  Gregor, 
For  me  you's  never  see  mair." 

O  heely,  heely  gi'd  she  back. 
As  the  day  began  to  peep; 

She  set  her  foot  on  good  ship-board, 
An  sair,  sair  did  she  weep. 

PART  II 

Love  Gregor  started  frae  his  sleep, 

An  to  his  mither  did  say, 
*'I  dreamd  a  dream  this  night,  mither. 

That  maks  my  heart  right  wae. 

"I  dreamd  that  Anny  of  Roch-royal, 

The  flowr  o  a'  her  kin, 
Was  standin  mournin  at  my  door. 

But  nane  would  lat  her  in." 


FAIR  ANNY  OF  ROCH-ROYAL      195 

**0  there  was  a  woman  stood  at  the  door, 

Wi  a  bairn  intill  her  arms. 
But  I  woud  na  lat  her  within  the  bowr. 

For  fear  she  had  done  you  harm.'* 

O  quickly,  quickly  raise  he  up, 

An  fast  ran  to  the  stran, 
An  there  he  saw  her  Fair  Anny, 

Was  sailin  frae  the  Ian. 


An  "Heigh,  Anny!"  an  "Hou,  Anny! 

O  Anny,  speak  to  me ! " 
But  ay  the  louder  that  he  cried  "Anny, 

The  louder  roard  the  sea. 


»> 


An  "Heigh,  Anny!"  an  "Hou,  Anny! 

O  Anny,  winna  you  bide?" 
But  ay  the  langer  that  he  cried  "Anny," 

The  higher  roard  the  tide. 

The  win  grew  loud,  an  the  sea  grew  rough. 
An  the  ship  was  rent  in  twain. 

An  soon  he  saw  her  Fair  Anny 
Come  floating  oer  the  main. 

He  saw  his  young  son  in  her  arms, 

Baith  tossd  aboon  the  tide; 
He  wrang  his  hands,  than  fast  he  ran. 

An  plung'd  i  the  sea  sae  wide. 


19G        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

He  catchd  her  by  the  yallow  hair, 

An  drew  her  to  the  strand, 
But  cauld  an  stiff  was  every  hmb 

Before  he  reachd  the  land. 

O  first  he  kissd  her  cherry  cheek; 

An  then  he  kissd  her  chin; 
An  sair  he  kissd  her  ruby  Hps, 

But  there  was  nae  breath  within. 

O  he  has  mournd  oer  Fair  Anny 
Till  the  sun  was  gaing  down. 

Then  wi  a  sigh  his  heart  it  brast. 
An  his  soul  to  heaven  has  flown. 

THE  CRUEL  SISTER 

There  were  two  sisters  sat  in  a  bour, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
There  came  a  knight  to  be  their  wooer; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

He  courted  the  eldest  with  glove  and  ring, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
But  he  lo'ed  the  youngest  abune  a'  thing; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

He  courted  the  eldest  with  broach  and  knife, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
But  he  lo'ed  the  youngest  abune  his  life; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 


TIIE  CRUEL  SISTER  197 

The  eldest  she  was  vexed  sair, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  sore  envied  her  sister  fair; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

The  eldest  said  to  the  youngest  ane, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
**  Will  ye  go  and  see  your  father's  ships  come  in  ?  '* — 
By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

She's  ta'en  her  by  the  hly  hand, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  led  her  down  to  the  river  strand ; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

The  youngest  stude  upon  a  stane, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
The  eldest  came  and  pushed  her  in ; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

She  took  her  by  the  middle  sma*, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  dash'd  her  bonny  back  to  the  jaw; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

"O  sister,  sister,  reach  your  hand, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
Ard  ye  shall  be  heir  of  half  my  land."  — 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 


198        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS' 

**0  sister,  I'll  not  reach  my  hand, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  I'll  be  heir  of  all  your  land; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

"Shame  fa'  the  hand  that  I  should  take, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
It's  twin'd  me,  and  my  world's  make."  — 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

**0  sister,  reach  me  but  your  glove, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  sweet  WilHam  shall  be  your  love."  — 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

**Sink  on,  nor  hope  for  hand  or  glove! 
Binnorie,  O  Binnorie: 
And  sweet  William  shall  better  be  my  love. 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

**  Your  cherry  cheeks  and  your  yellow  hair, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
Garr'd  me  gang  maiden  evermair."  — 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

Sometimes  she  sunk,  and  sometimes  she  swam, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
Until  she  cam  to  the  miller's  dam; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 


THE  CRUEL  SISTER  199 

**0  father,  father,  draw  your  dam! 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
There's    either    a    mermaid,    or    a    milk-white 
swan."  — 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

The  miller  hasted  and  drew  his  dam, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  there  he  found  a  drown'd  woman; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

You  could  not  see  her  yellow  hair, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
For  gowd  and  pearls  that  were  sae  rare; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

You  could  na  see  her  middle  sma\ 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
Her  gowden  girdle  was  sae  bra'; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

A  famous  harper  passing  by, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
The  sweet  pale  face  he  chanced  to  spy ; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

And  when  he  looked  that  lady  on, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
He  sigh'd  and  made  a  heavy  moan; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 


200        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

He  made  a  harp  of  her  breast-bone, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
Whose  sounds  would  melt  a  heart  of  stone; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

The  strings  he  framed  of  her  yellow  hair, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
Whose  notes  made  sad  the  listening  ear; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

He  brought  it  to  her  father's  hall, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  there  was  the  court  assembled  all; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

He  laid  this  harp  upon  a  stone, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  straight  it  began  to  play  alone! 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

"O  yonder  sits  my  father,  the  king, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  yonder  sits  my  mother,  the  queen; 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

"And  yonder  stands  my  brother  Hugh, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
And  by  him  my  William,  sweet  and  true."  — 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 


BARBARA  ALLEN'S  CRUELTY     201 

But  the  last  tune  that  the  harp  play'd  then, 

Binnorie,  O  Binnorie; 
Was  —  "Woe  to  my  sister,  false  Helen!"  — 

By  the  bonny  milldams  of  Binnorie. 

BARBARA  ALLEN'S  CRUELTY 

In  Scarlet  Town,  where  I  was  bound, 
There  was  a  fair  maid  dwelling, 

Whom  I  had  chosen  to  be  my  own, 
And  her  name  it  was  Barbara  Allen. 

All  in  the  merry  month  of  May, 

When  green  leaves  they  was  springing, 

This  young  man  on  his  death-bed  lay. 
For  the  love  of  Barbara  Allen. 

He  sent  his  man  unto  her  then, 

To  the  town  where  she  was  dwelhng: 

**You  must  come  to  my  master  dear. 
If  your  name  be  Barbara  Allen. 

"For  death  is  printed  in  his  face. 

And  sorrow 's  in  him  dwelling. 
And  j^ou  must  come  to  my  master  dear, 

If  your  name  be  Barbara  Allen." 

"If  death  be  printed  in  his  face, 

And  sorrow's  in  him  dwelling. 
Then  little  better  shall  he  be 

For  bonny  Barbara  Allen." 


202        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

So  slowly,  slowly  she  got  up. 

And  so  slowly  she  came  to  him, 
And  all  she  said  when  she  came  there, 
'Young  man,  I  think  you  are  a  dying." 


«(' 


He  turnd  his  face  unto  her  then: 

"If  you  be  Barbara  Allen, 
My  dear,'*  said  he,  "come  pitty  me. 

As  on  my  death-bed  I  am  lying.'* 

**If  on  your  death-bed  you  be  lying. 
What  is  that  to  Barbara  Allen? 

I  cannot  keep  you  from  your  death; 
So  farewell,"  said  Barbara  Allen. 

He  turnd  his  face  unto  the  wall. 
And  death  came  creeping  to  him: 

"Then  adieu,  adieu,  and  adieu  to  all. 
And  adieu  to  Barbara  Allen!" 

And  as  sha  was  walking  on  a  day, 
She  heard  the  bell  a  ringing. 

And  it  did  seem  to  ring  to  her 
"Unworthy  Barbara  Allen." 

She  turnd  herself  round  about. 
And  she  spy'd  the  corps  a  coming: 

"Lay  down,  lay  down  the  corps  of  clay. 
That  I  may  look  upon  him." 


SONG  203 

And  all  the  while  she  looked  on. 

So  loudly  she  lay  laughing, 
While  all  her  friends  cry'd  out  amain, 

"Unworthy  Barbara  Allen!'* 

When  he  was  dead,  and  laid  in  grave. 
Then  death  came  creeping  to  she: 

**0  mother,  mother,  make  my  bed, 
For  his  death  hath  quite  undone  me. 

**A  hard-hearted  creature  that  I  was. 
To  sHght  one  that  lovd  me  so  dearly; 

I  wish  I  had  been  more  kinder  to  him. 

The  time  of  his  life  when  he  was  near  me." 

So  this  maid  she  then  did  dye, 
And  desired  to  be  buried  by  him, 

And  repented  her  self  before  she  dy'd, 
That  ever  she  did  deny  him. 

SONG:  EARL  MARCH  LOOKED  ON 
HIS  DYING  CHILD 

Earl  March  looked  on  his  dying  child, 
And,  smit  with  grief  to  view  her, 

**The  youth,"  he  cried,  "whom  I  exiled 
Shall  be  restored  to  woo  her." 

She's  at  the  window  many  an  hour 

His  coming  to  discover: 
And  her  Love  looked  up  to  Ellen's  bower, 

And  she  looked  on  her  Lover.  — 


204        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

But  ah!  so  pale,  he  knew  her  not, 

Though  her  smile  on  him  was  dwelling. 

*'And  am  I  then  forgot  —  forgot?" 
It  broke  the  heart  of  Ellen. 

In  vain  he  weeps,  in  vain  he  sighs; 

Her  cheek  is  cold  as  ashes; 

Nor  Love's  own  kiss  shall  wake  those  eyes 

To  lift  their  silken  lashes. 

Thomas  Campbell 

LORD  LOVEL 

Lord  Lovel  he  stood  at  his  castle  gate. 

Combing  liis  milk-white  steed; 
When  up  came  Lady  Nancy  Belle, 

To  wish  her  lover  good  speed,  speed. 

To  wish  her  lover  good  speed. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Lord  Lovel?"  she  said, 
"Oh!  where  are  you  going?"  said  she; 

"I'm  going,  my  Lady  Nancy  Belle, 
Strange  countries  for  to  see,  to  see. 
Strange  countries  for  to  see." 

"When  will  you  be  back,  Lord  Lovel?"  she  said; 

"Oh!  when  will  you  come  back?"  said  she; 
"In  a  year  or  two  —  or  three,  at  the  most, 

I'll  return  to  my  fair  Nancy-cy, 

I'll  return  to  my  fair  Nancy." 


LORD  LO\^L  205 

But  he  had  not  been  gone  a  year  and  a  day, 
Strange  countries  for  to  see, 

When  languishing  thoughts  came  into  his  head, 
Lady  Nancy  Belle  he  would  go  see,  see. 
Lady  Nancy  Belle  he  would  go  see. 

So  he  rode,  and  he  rode  on  his  milk-white  steed. 
Till  he  came  to  London-town; 

And  there  he  heard  St.  Pancras'  bells, 

And  the  people  all  mourning  round,  round,' 
And  the  people  all  mourning  round. 

"Oh!  what  is  the  matter?"  Lord  Lovel  he  said, 
"Oh!  what  is  the  matter?"  said  he;. 

"A  Lord's  Lady  is  dead,"  a  woman  replied, 
"And  some  call  her  Lady  Nancy-cy, 
And  some  call  her  Lady  Nancy." 

So  he  ordered  the  grave  to  be  opened  wide, 
And  the  shroud  he  turned  down. 

And  there  he  kissed  her  clay -cold  hps. 

Till  the  tears  came  trickling  down,  down. 
Till  the  tears  came  trickhng  down. 

Lady  Nancy  she  died  as  it  might  be  to-day. 
Lord  Lovel  he  died  as  to-morrow; 

Lady  Nancy  she  died  out  of  pure,  pure  grief. 
Lord  Lovel  he  died  out  of  sorrow,  sorrow, 
Lord  Lovel  he  died  out  of  sorrow. 


206        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Lady  Nancy  was  laid  in  St.  Pancras'  church, 
Lord  Lovel  was  laid  in  the  choir; 

And  out  of  her  bosom  there  grew  a  red  rose, 
And  out  of  her  lover's  a  brier,  brier. 
And  out  of  her  lover's  a  brier. 

They  grew,  and  they  grew,  to  the  church  steeple, 
too, 

And  then  they  could  grow  no  higher; 
So  there  they  entwined  in  a  true  lover's  knot, 

For  all  lovers  true  to  admire-mire. 

For  all  lovers  true  to  admire. 


PRETTY  MAYS  AND  KNIGHTS  SO  BOLD 


THE  NOBLE  RIDDLE 

"  //  thou  canst  answer  me  questions  three. 
This  very  day  will  I  marry  thee." 

"Kind  sir,  in  love,  0  then,"  quoth  she, 
"  Tell  me  what  your  three  questions  be." 

"0  what  is  longer  than  the  way. 
Or  what  is  deeper  than  the  sea? 

"Or  what  is  louder  than  the  horn. 
Or  what  is  sharper  than  a  thorn? 

"Or  what  is  greener  than  the  grass. 
Or  what  is  worse  than  a  woman  was?" 

"0  love  is  longer  than  the  way. 
And  hell  is  deeper  than  the  sea. 

"And  thunder  is  louder  than  the  horn, 
And  hunger  is  sharper  than  a  thorn. 

"And  poyson  is  greener  than  the  grass. 
And  the  Devil  is  worse  than  woman  was.' 

When  she  these  questions  answered  had. 
The  knight  became  exceeding  glad. 

And  having  truly  tryd  her  wit. 
He  much  commended  her  for  it. 

And  after,  as  it  is  verifi'd. 

He  made  of  her  his  lovely  bride. 

So  now,  fair  maidens  all,  adieu. 
This  song  I  dedicate  to  you. 

I  wish  that  you  may  constant  prove 
Vnto  the  man  that  you  do  love. 


BLANCHEFLOUR  AND  JELLY- 
FLOHICE 

PART  I 

There  was  a  maid,  richly  array d. 
In  robes  were  rare  to  see, 

For  seven  years  and  something  mair 
She  servd  a  gay  ladie. 

But  being  fond  o  a  higher  place. 
In  service  she  thought  lang; 

She  took  her  mantle  her  about. 
Her  coffer  by  the  band. 

And  as  she  walkd  by  tlie  shore-side. 
As  blythe's  a  bird  on  tree, 

Yet  still  she  gaz'd  her  round  about, 
To  see  what  she  could  see. 

At  last  she  spied  a  little  castle, 
That  stood  near  by  the  sea; 

She  spied  it  far  and  drew  it  near. 
To  that  castle  went  she. 

And  when  she  came  to  that  castle 

She  tirled  at  the  pin. 
And  ready  stood  a  little  wee  boy 

To  lat  this  fair  maid  in. 


210        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"0  who's  the  owner  of  this  place, 

O  porter-boy,  tell  me;" 
"This  place  belongs  unto  a  queen 

0  birth  and  high  degree." 

She  put  her  hand  in  her  pocket. 
And  gae  him  shillings  three: 

"O  porter,  bear  my  message  well 
Unto  the  queen  frae  me." 

The  porter's  gane  before  the  queen. 

Fell  low  down  on  his  knee: 
"Win  up,  win  up,  my  porter-boy. 

What  makes  this  courtesie?" 

"I  hae  been  porter  at  your  yetts. 
My  dame,  these  years  full  three. 

But  see  a  ladie  at  your  yetts 
The  fairest  my  eyes  did  see.** 

**  Cast  up  my  yetts  baith  wide  and  braid, 

Lat  her  come  in  to  me, 
And  I'll  know  by  her  courtesie 

Lord's  daughter  if  she  be." 

When  she  came  in  before  the  queen, 

Fell  low  down  on  her  knee: 
'*  Service  frae  you,  my  dame  the  queen, 

1  pray  you  grant  it  me." 


BLANCIIEFLOUR  211 

"If  that  service  ye  now  do  want, 

What  station  will  ye  be? 
Can  ye  card  wool,  or  spin,  fair  maid. 

Or  milk  the  cows  to  me?" 

"No,  I  can  neither  card  nor  spin. 

Nor  cows  I  canno  milk, 
But  sit  into  a  lady's  bower 

And  sew  the  seams  o  silk." 

"What  is  your  name,  ye  comely  dame? 

Pray  tell  this  unto  me:" 
"O  Blancheflour,  that  is  my  name. 

Born  in  a  strange  countrie." 

"O  keep  ye  well  frae  Jellyflorice  — 

My  ain  dear  son  is  he  — 
When  other  ladies  get  a  gift, 

O  that  ye  shall  get  three." 

PART  II 

It  wasna  tald  into  the  bower 

Till  it  went  thro  the  ha, 
That  Jellyflorice  and  Blancheflour 

Were  grown  ower  great  witha. 

When  the  queen's  maids  their  visits  paid, 

Upo  the  gude  Yule-day, 
When  other  ladies  got  horse  to  ride, 

She  boud  take  foot  and  gae. 


212        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  queen  she  calld  her  stable-groom, 

To  come  to  her  right  seen; 
Says,  "Ye '11  take  out  yon  wild  waith  steed 

And  bring  him  to  the  green. 

"Ye '11  take  the  bridle  frae  his  head, 

The  lighters  frae  his  een; 
Ere  she  ride  three  times  roun  the  cross. 

Her  weel-days  will  be  dune." 

Jellyflorice  his  true-love  spy'd 

As  she  rade  roun  the  cross, 
And  thrice  he  kissd  her  lovely  lips. 

And  took  her  frae  her  horse. 

**  Gang  to  your  bower,  my  lily-flower. 

For  a'  my  mother's  spite; 
There 's  nae  other  amang  her  maids, 

In  whom  I  take  delight. 

**Ye  are  my  jewel,  and  only  ane, 

Nane's  do  you  injury; 
For  ere  this-day-month  come,  and  gang 

My  wedded  wife  ye'se  be." 

GLENARA 

Oh  !  heard  ye  yon  pibroch  sound  sad  in  the  gale, 
Where  a  band  cometh  slowly  with  weeping  and 
wail.'* 


GLENARA  213 

*T  is  the  Chief  of  Glenara  himents  for  his  dear, 
And  her  sire  and  the  people  are  called  to  her  bier. 

Glenara  came  first,  with  the  mourners  and  shroud; 
Her  kinsmen  they  followed,  but  mourned  not 

aloud. 
Their  plaids  all  their  bosoms  were  folded  around ; 
They  marched  all  in  silence,  —  they  looked  on 

the  ground. 

In  silence  they  reached,  over  mountain  and  moor, 
To  a  heath,  where  the  oak-tree  grew  lonely  and 

hoar; 
"Now  here  let  us  place  the  grey  stone  of  her 

cairn; 
Why  speak  ye  no  word?"  —  said  Glenara  the 

stern. 

"And  tell  me,  I  charge  you !  ye  clan  of  my  spouse, 
"Why  fold  ye  your  mantles,  why  cloud  ye  your 

brows?" 
So  spake  the  rude  chieftain :  —  no  answer  is  made. 
But  each  mantle  unfolding  a  dagger  displayed. 

*'I  dreamt  of  my  lady,  I  dreamt  of  her  shroud," 
Cried  a  voice  from  the  kinsmen  all,  wrathful  and 

loud: 
"And  empty  that  shroud  and  that  coffin  did  seem; 
Glenara!  Glenara!  now  read  me  my  dream!" 


214        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Oh !  pale  grew  the  cheek  of  that  chieftain,  I  ween, 
When  the  shroud  was  unclosed  and  no  lady  was 

seen; 
When  a  voice  from  the  kinsmen  spoke  louder  in 

scorn,  — 
'T  was  the  youth  who  had  loved  the  fair  Ellen  of 

Lorn,  — 

**I  dreamt  of  my  lady,  I  dreamt  of  her  grief; 
I  dreamt  that  her  lord  was  a  barbarous  Chief; 
On  a  rock  of  the  ocean  fair  Ellen  did  seem; 
Glenara!  Glenara!  now  read  me  my  dream!" 

In  dust  low  the  traitor  has  knelt  to  the  ground; 
And  the  desert  revealed  where  his  lady  was  found ; 
From  a  rock  of  the  ocean  that  beauty  is  borne,  — 
Now  joy  to  the  house  of  fair  Ellen  of  Lorn ! 

Thomas  Campbell 

THE  BEGGAR-MAID 

Her  arms  across  her  breast  she  laid; 
I     She  was  more  fair  than  words  can  say; 
Barefooted  came  the  Beggar-maid 
Before  the  Ejng  Cophetua. 

In  robe  and  crown  the  King  stept  down. 
To  meet  and  greet  her  on  her  way; 

*'It  is  no  wonder,"  said  the  Lords, 
"She  is  more  beautiful  than  day." 


LOCHIN\^\R  215 

As  shines  the  moon  in  clouded  skies, 
She  in  her  poor  attire  was  seen; 

One  praised  her  ankles,  one  her  eyes, 
One  her  dark  hair  and  lovesome  mien. 

So  sweet  a  face,  such  angel  grace, 
In  all  that  land  had  never  been. 

Cophetua  sware  a  royal  oath: 

"This  Beggar-maid  shall  be  my  Queen!" 

Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson 


s^ 


LOCHINVAR 


Oh!  young  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  West; 
Through  all  the  wide  border  his  steed  was  the 

best; 
And  save  his  good  broadsword  he  weapons  had 

none, 
He  rode  all  unarmed,  and  he  rode  all  alone. 
So  faithful  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  w^ar. 
There  never  was  Knight  Hke  the  young  Lochinvar. 

He  staid  not  for  brake,  and  he  stopped  not  for 

stone. 
He  swam  the  Eske  river  where  ford  there  was 

none; 
But  ere  he  alighted  at  Netherby  gate. 
The  bride  had  consented,  the  gallant  came  late; 
For  a  laggard  in  love,  and  a  dastard  in  war, 
Was  to  wed  the  fair  Ellen  of  brave  Lochinvar. 


216        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

So  boldly  he  entered  the  Netherby  Hall, 
Among  bridesmen,  and  kinsmen,  and  brothers 

and  all, 
Then  spoke  the  bride's  father,  his  hand  on  his 

sword, 
— For  the  poor  craven  bridegroom  said  never  a 

word  — 
"Oh!  come  ye  in  peace  here,  or  come  ye  in  war. 
Or  to  dance  at  our  bridal,  yomig  Lord  Lochin- 

var?" 

"I  long  wooed  your  daughter,  my  suit  you  de- 
nied; — 
Love  swells  like  the  Solway,  but  ebbs  like  its 

tide  — 
And  now  am  I  come  with  this  lost  love  of  mine. 
To  lead  but  one  measure,  drink  one  cup  of  wine, 
There  are  maidens  in  Scotland  more  lovely  by  far, 
That  would  gladly  be  bride  to  the  young  Locliin- 
var." 

The  bride  kissed  the  goblet;  the  Knight  took  it  up. 
He  quaffed  off  the  wine,  and  he  threw  down  the 

cup. 
She  looked  down  to  blush,  and  she  looked  up  to 

sigh, 
With  a  smile  on  her  lips,  and  a  tear  in  her  eye. 
He  took  her  soft  hand,  ere  her  mother  could  bar, — 
*'Now  tread  we  a  measure,"  said  young  Lochinvar. 


LOCIIINVAR  217 

So  stately  his  form,  and  so  lovely  her  face, 
That  never  a  hall  such  a  galliard  did  grace; 
While  her  mother  did  fret,  and  her  father  did  fume, 
And  the  bridegroom  stood  dangling  his  bonnet 

and  plume; 
And  the  bride-maidens  whispered,  "'T  were  bet- 
ter by  far. 
To  have  matched  our  fair  cousin  with  young 
Lochinvar." 

One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear, 
When  they  reached  the  hall-door,  and  the  charger 

stood  near; 
So  light  to  the  croupe  the  fair  lady  he  swung. 
So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung! 
*'She  is  won!  we  are  gone,  over  bank,  bush,  and 

scaur; 
They'll   have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,'*  quoth 

young  Lochinvar. 

There    was    mounting    'mong    Graemes    of    the 

Netherby  clan; 
Forsters,  Fenwicks,  and  Musgraves,  they  rode 

and  they  ran; 
There  was  racing  and  chasing  on  Cannobie  Lea, 
But  the  lost  bride  of  Netherby  ne'er  did  they  see. 
So  daring  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war. 
Have  ye  e'er  heard  of  gallant  hke  young  Loch- 
invar? 

Sir  Walter  Scott 


218        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 
THE  GAY  GOSS-HAWK 

PART  I 

**0  WALY,  waly,  my  gay  goss-hawk. 
Gin  your  feathering  be  sheen!"  — 

"And  waly,  waly,  my  master  dear. 
Gin  ye  look  pale  and  lean ! 

*'0  have  ye  tint,  at  tournament, 
Your  sword,  or  yet  your  spear; 

Or  mourn  ye  for  the  southern  lass. 
Whom  ye  may  not  win  near?  "  — 

**I  have  not  tint,  at  tournament. 
My  sword,  nor  yet  my  spear; 

But  sair  I  mourn  for  my  true  love, 
Wi'  mony  a  bitter  tear. 

"But  weel  's  me  on  ye,  my  gay  goss-hawk, 
Ye  can  baith  speak  and  flee; 

Ye  sail  carry  a  letter  to  my  love, 
Bring  an  answer  back  to  me."  — 

"But  how  sail  I  your  true  love  find. 

Or  how  suld  I  her  know? 
I  bear  a  tongue  ne'er  wi*  her  spake. 

An  eye  that  ne'er  her  saw." 


TPIE  GAY  GOSS-ILVWK  219 


(< 


0  weel  sail  ye  my  true  love  ken, 
Sae  sune  as  ye  her  see; 
For,  of  a'  the  flowers  of  fair  England, 
The  fairest  flower  is  she. 

"The  red  that's  on  my  true  love's  cheek, 
Is  like  blood-drops  on  the  snaw; 

The  white  that  is  on  her  breast  bare. 
Like  the  down  o'  the  wliite  sea-maw. 

**And  even  at  my  love's  bour-door 
There  grows  a  flowering  birk; 

And  ye  maun  sit  and  sing  thereon 
As  she  gangs  to  the  kirk. 

"And  four-and-twenty  fair  ladj'es 

Will  to  the  mass  repair; 
But  weel  may  ye  my  ladye  ken. 

The  fairest  ladye  there." 

PART  II 

Lord  William  has  written  a  love-letter, 
Put  it  under  his  pinion  gray; 

And  he  is  awa  to  Southern  land 
As  fast  as  wings  can  gae. 

And  even  at  that  ladye's  hour 

There  grew  a  flowering  birk; 
And  he  sat  down  and  sung  thereon 

As  she  gaed  to  the  kirk. 


220        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  weel  he  kent  that  ladye  fair 

Amang  her  maidens  free; 
For  the  flower,  that  springs  in  May  morning,  / 

Was  not  sae  sweet  as  she. 

He  lighted  at  the  ladye's  yate. 

And  sat  him  on  a  pin; 
And  sang  fu'  sweet  the  notes  o'  love, 

Till  a'  was  cosh  within. 

And  first  he  sang  a  low  low  note. 

And  syne  he  sang  a  clear; 
And  aye  the  o'erword  o'  the  sang 

Was  —  "Your  love  can  no  win  here." 

"Feast  on,  feast  on,  my  maidens  a', 

The  wine  flows  you  amang, 
While  I  gang  to  my  shot-window, 

And  hear  yon  bonny  bird's  sang. 


"Sing  on,  smg  on,  my  bonny  bird, 
The  sang  ye  sung  yestreen; 

For  weel  I  ken,  by  your  sweet  singing. 
Ye  are  frae  my  true  love  sen." 

O  first  he  sang  a  merry  sang, 

And  syne  he  sang  a  grave; 
And  syne  he  pecked  his  feathers  gray. 

To  her  the  letter  gave. 


THE  GAY  GOSS-IIAWK  221 

"Have  there  a  letter  from  lord  William; 

He  says  he's  sent  ye  three; 
He  canna  wait  your  love  langer, 

But  for  your  sake  he'll  dee."  — 

*  Gae  bid  him  bake  his  bridal  bread. 

And  brew  his  bridal  ale; 
And  I  shall  meet  him  at  Mary's  kirk, 
Lang,  lang  ere  it  be  stale." 

The  lady 's  gane  to  her  chamber. 
And  a  moanfu'  woman  was  she; 

As  gin  she  had  ta'en  a  sudden  brash. 
And  were  about  to  dee. 

"A  boon,  a  boon,  my  father  dear, 

A  boon  I  beg  of  thee ! "  — 
**Ask  not  that  paughty  Scottish  lord. 

For  him  you  ne'er  shall  see. 

"But,  for  your  honest  asking  else, 

Weel  granted  it  shall  be."  — 
"Then,  gin  I  die  in  Southern  land. 

In  Scotland  gar  bury  me. 

"And  the  first  kirk  that  ye  come  to, 

Ye's  gar  the  mass  be  sung; 
And  the  next  kirk  that  ye  come  to," 

Ye 's  gar  the  bells  be  rung. 


222        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"And  when  ye  come  to  St.  Mary's  kirk, 
Ye's  tarry  there  till  night." 

And  so  her  father  pledg'd  his  word, 
And  so  his  promise  plight. 

PART  III 

She  has  ta'en  her  to  her  bigly  hour 

As  fast  as  she  could  fare; 
And  she  has  drank  a  sleepy  draught, 

That  she  had  mix'd  wi'  care. 

And  pale,  pale  grew  her  rosy  cheek, 
That  was  sae  bright  of  blee. 

And  she  seem'd  to  be  as  surely  dead 
As  any  one  could  be. 

Then  spak  her  cruel  step-minnie, 

"Tak  ye  the  burning  lead, 
And  drap  a  drap  on  her  bosome, 

To  try  if  she  be  dead." 

They  took  a  drap  o'  boiling  lead. 
They  drapp'd  it  on  her  breast; 

"Alas!  alas!"  her  father  cried, 
"She's  dead  without  the  priest." 

She  neither  chatter'd  with  her  teeth, 
Nor  shiver'd  with  her  chin; 

"Alas!  alas!"  her  father  cried, 
"There  is  nae  breath  within." 


THE  GAY  GOSS-IL\WK  223 

Then  up  arose  her  seven  brethren. 

And  hew'd  to  her  a  bier; 
They  hew'd  it  frae  the  sohd  aik. 

Laid  it  o'er  wi'  silver  clear. 

Then  up  and  gat  her  seven  sisters, 

And  sewed  to  her  a  kell; 
And  every  steek  that  they  put  in 

Sewed  to  a  siller  bell. 

The  first  Scots  kirk  that  they  cam  to. 

They  garr'd  the  bells  be  rung; 
The  next  Scots  kirk  that  they  cam  to. 

They  garr'd  the  mass  be  sung. 

But  when  they  cam  to  St.  Mary's  kirk. 
There  stude  spearmen  all  on  a  raw; 

And  up  and  started  lord  William, 
The  chief tane  amang  them  a*. 

"Set  down,  set  down  the  bier,"  he  said, 

"Let  me  look  her  upon:" 
But  as  soon  as  lord  William  touch'd  her  hand. 

Her  colour  began  to  come. 

She  brightened  like  the  lily  flower. 

Till  her  pale  colour  was  gone; 
With  rosy  cheik,  and  ruby  lip, 

She  smiled  her  love  upon. 


224        STORY-TELLING  BAXLADS 

"A  morsel  of  your  bread,  my  lord, 

And  one  glass  of  your  wine; 
For  I  hae  fasted  these  three  lang  days. 

All  for  your  sake  and  mine.  — 

"  Gae  hame,  gae  hame,  my  seven  bauld  brothers, 

Gae  hame  and  blaw  your  horn ! 
I  trow  ye  wad  hae  gi'en  me  the  skaith. 

But  I've  gi'en  you  the  scorn. 

"  Commend  me  to  my  gray  father. 

That  wished  my  saul  gude  rest; 
But  wae  be  to  my  cruel  step-dame, 

Garr'd  burn  me  on  the  breast."  — 

"Ah!  woe  to  you,  you  light  woman! 

An  ill  death  may  you  dee! 
For  we  left  father  and  sisters  at  hame 

Breaking  their  hearts  for  thee." 


BONNY  BABY  LIVINGSTON 

PART  I 

O  BONNY  Baby  Livingston 
Went  forth  to  view  the  hay. 

And  by  it  came  him  Glenlion, 
Sta  bonny  Baby  away. 


BONNY  BABY  LIVINGSTON        225 

O  first  he 's  tacn  her  silken  coat, 

And  neest  her  satten  gown, 
Syne  rowd  her  in  a  tartan  plaid, 

And  hapd  her  round  and  rown, 

He  has  set  her  upon  his  steed 

And  roundly  rode  away. 
And  neer  loot  her  look  back  again 

The  hve-long  summer's  day. 

He's  carried  her  oer  hills  and  muirs 
Till  they  came  to  a  Highland  glen, 

And  there  he 's  met  his  brother  Jolm, 
With  twenty  armed  men. 

O  there  were  cows,  and  there  were  ewes, 

And  lasses  milking  there. 
But  Baby  neer  anse  lookd  about. 

Her  heart  was  filld  wi  care. 

Glenlion  took  her  in  his  arms, 

And  kissd  her,  cheek  and  chin; 
Says,  "  I  'd  gie  a'  these  cows  and  ewes 

But  ae  kind  look  to  win." 

*'0  ae  kind  look  ye  neer  shall  get, 

Nor  win  a  smile  frae  me, 
Unless  to  me  you  '11  favour  shew. 

And  take  me  to  Dundee." 


226        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Dundee,  Baby?  Dundee,  Baby? 

Dundee  you  neer  shall  see 
Till  I've  carried  you  to  Glenlion 

And  have  my  bride  made  thee. 

"We'll  stay  a  while  at  Auchingour, 
And  get  sweet  milk  and  cheese. 

And  syne  we'll  gang  to  Glenlion, 
And  there  live  at  our  ease." 

"I  winna  stay  at  Auchingour, 
Nor  eat  sweet  milk  and  cheese. 

Nor  go  with  thee  to  Glenlion, 
For  there  I'll  neer  find  ease." 

Than  out  it  spake  his  brother  John, 

"O  were  I  in  your  place, 
I'd  take  that  lady  hame  again. 

For  a'  her  bonny  face. 

**  Commend  me  to  the  lass  that's  kind, 

Tho  na  so  gently  born; 
And,  gin  her  heart  I  coudna  gain. 

To  take  her  hand  I'd  scorn." 

"O  had  your  tongue  now,  John,"  he  says, 
"You  wis  na  what  you  say; 

For  I've  lood  that  bonny  face 
This  twelve  month  and  a  day. 


i 


BONNY  BABY  LIVINGSTON       227 

"And  tho  I've  lood  her  lang  and  sair 

A  smile  I  neer  coud  win; 
Yet  what  I  Ve  got  anse  in  my  power 

To  keep  I  think  nae  sin." 

PART  II 

When  they  came  to  GlenHon  castle, 

They  lighted  at  the  yate, 
And  out  it  came  his  sisters  three, 

Wha  did  them  kindly  greet. 

0  theyVe  taen  Baby  by  the  hands 
And  led  her  oer  the  green. 

And  ilka  lady  spake  a  word, 
But  bonny  Baby  spake  nane. 

Then  out  it  spake  her  bonny  Jean, 

The  youngest  o  the  three, 
**0  lady,  dinna  look  sae  sad, 

But  tell  your  grief  to  me." 

**  O  wherefore  should  I  tell  my  grief. 

Since  lax  I  canna  find? 
I*m  stown  frae  a'  my  kin  and  friends. 

And  my  love  I  left  behind. 

"But  had  I  paper,  pen,  and  ink. 
Before  that  it  were  day, 

1  yet  might  get  a  letter  sent 

In  time  to  Johny  Hay." 


228        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

O  she 's  got  paper,  pen,  and  ink, 
And  candle  that  she  might  see, 

And  she  has  written  a  broad  letter 
To  Johny  at  Dundee. 

And  she  has  gotten  a  bonny  boy, 
That  was  baith  swift  and  Strang, 

Wi  philabeg  and  bonnet  blue, 
Her  errand  for  to  gang. 

**0  boy,  gin  ye'd  my  blessing  win 

And  help  me  in  my  need. 
Run  wi  this  letter  to  my  love, 

And  bid  him  come  wi  speed. 

"And  here*s  a  chain  of  good  red  gowd, 

And  gowdn  guineas  three. 
And  when  you  've  well  your  errand  done. 

You'll  get  them  for  your  fee." 

The  boy  he  ran  oer  hill  and  dale. 

Fast  as  a  bird  coud  flee, 
And  eer  the  sun  was  twa  hours  height 

The  boy  was  at  Dundee. 

And  when  he  came  to  Johny 's  door 

He  knocked  loud  and  sair; 
Then  Johny  to  the  window  came, 

And  loudly  cry'd,  "Wha's  there?'* 


i 


BONNY  BABY  LIVINGSTON       229 

**0  here's  a  letter  I  have  brought, 
Which  ye  maun  quickly  read, 

And,  gin  ye  woud  your  lady  save, 
Gang  back  wi  me  wi  speed." 

0  when  he  had  the  letter  read, 

An  angry  man  was  he; 
lie  says,  "  Glenlion,  thou  shalt  rue 

This  deed  of  villany ! 

**  O  saddle  to  me  the  black,  the  black, 

O  saddle  to  me  the  brown, 
O  saddle  to  me  the  swiftest  steed 

That  eer  rade  frae  the  town. 

"And  arm  ye  well,  my  merry  men  a*, 

And  follow  me  to  the  glen, 
For  I  vow  I  '11  neither  eat  nor  sleep 

Till  I  get  my  love  again." 

He's  mounted  on  a  milk-white  steed. 

The  boy  upon  a  gray, 
And  they  got  to  Glenlion's  castle 

About  the  close  of  day. 

As  Baby  at  her  window  stood. 

The  west  wind  saft  did  bla; 
She  heard  her  Johny's  well-kent  voice 

Beneath  the  castle  wa. 


230        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"0  Baby,  haste,  the  window  jump! 

I'll  kep  you  in  my  arm; 
My  merry  men  a'  are  at  the  yate. 

To  rescue  you  frae  harm." 

She  to  the  window  fixt  her  sheets 

And  shpped  safely  down, 
And  Johny  catchd  her  in  his  arms, 

Neer  loot  her  touch  the  ground. 

When  mounted  on  her  Johny 's  horse, 

Fou  blithely  did  she  say, 
"Glenlion,  you  hae  lost  your  bride! 

She's  aff  wi  Johny  Hay." 

PART  III 

Glenlion  and  his  brother  John 

Were  birling  in  the  ha. 
When  they  heard  Johny's  bridle  ring. 

As  first  he  rade  awa. 

"Rise,  Jock,  gang  out  and  meet  the  priest, 

I  hear  his  bridle  ring; 
My  Baby  now  shall  be  my  wife 

Before  the  laverocks  sing. 


>» 


"O  brother,  this  is  not  the  priest; 

I  fear  he'll  come  oer  late; 
For  armed  men  with  shining  brands 

Stand  at  the  castle-yate." 


H\^^D  HORN  231 

"Haste  Donald,  Duncan,  Dugald,  Hugh! 

Haste,  take  your  sword  and  spier! 
We  '11  gar  these  traytors  rue  the  hour 

That  eer  they  ventured  here." 

The  Highland  men  drew  their  claymores. 

And  gae  a  warlike  shout, 
But  Johny's  merry  men  kept  the  yate, 

Nae  ane  durst  venture  out. 

The  lovers  rade  the  live-lang  night, 

And  safe  gat  on  their  way, 
And  bonny  Baby  Livingston 

Has  gotten  Johny  Hay. 

**Awa,  Glenlion!  fy  for  shame! 

Gae  hide  ye  in  some  den! 
You  've  lettn  your  bride  be  stown  f rae  you, 

For  a*  your  armed  men." 

HYND  HORN 

Near  the  King's  Court  was  a  young  child  born. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

And  his  name  it  was  called  Young  Hynd  Horn, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

Seven  lang  years  he  served  the  King, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

And  it's  a'  for  the  sake  o'  his  daughter  Jean, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 


232        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  King  an  angry  man  was  he, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

He  sent  Young  Hynd  Horn  to  the  sea, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

Oh !  his  Love  gave  him  a  gay  gold  ring. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

With  three  shining  diamonds  set  therein. 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

"As  lang  as  these  diamonds  keep  their  hue. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian, 

Ye  '11  know  I  am  a  lover  true. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

"But  when  your  ring  turns  pale  and  wan. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian, 

Then  I  'm  in  love  with  another  man, 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie.'* 

He 's  gone  to  the  sea  and  far  away. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

And  he 's  stayed  for  seven  lang  years  and  a  day. 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie: 

Seven  lang  years  by  land  and  sea, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

And  he 's  af ten  looked  how  his  ring  may  be, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 


HYND  HORN  233 

One  day  when  he  looked  this  ring  upon, 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  lan^ 
The  shining  diamonds  were  pale  and  wan. 

And  the  hirk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

He  hoisted  sails,  and  hame  cam'  he, 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
Hame  unto  his  ain  countrie, 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

He*s  left  the  sea  and  he's  come  to  land. 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
And  the  first  he  met  was  an  auld  beggar-man. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. _ 

"WTiat  news,  what  news,  my  silly  auld  man? 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
For  it's  seven  lang  years  since  I  saw  this  land, 

Ajid  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie.''* 

*'No  news,  no  news,"  doth  the  beggar-man  say. 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
"But  our  King's  ae  daughter  she 's  wedded  to-day. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie.''* 

"Wilt  thou  give  to  me  thy  begging  coat? 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
And  I'll  give  to  thee  my  scarlet  cloak. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 


234        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Give  me  your  auld  pike-staff,  and  hat, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

And  ye  sail  be  right  weel  paid  for  that, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie.^* 

The  auld  beggar-man  cast  off  his  coat, 
•    With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian, 
And  he's  ta'en  up  the  scarlet  cloak, 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

He's  gi'en  him  his  auld  pike-staff  and  hat. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

And  he  was  right  weel  paid  for  that. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnicy. 

The  auld  beggar-man  was  bound  for  the  mill, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

But  Young  Hynd  Horn  for  the  King's  ain  hall. 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

When  he  came  to  the  King's  ain  gate, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian, 

He  asked  a  drink  for  Young  Hynd  Horn's  sake, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

These  news  unto  the  bonny  bride  cam'. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian, 

That  at  the  gate  there  stands  an  auld  man. 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 


hysb  horn  235 

There  stands  an  auld  man  at  the  King's  gate, 

With  a  hey  lillclu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
He  asketh  a  drink  for  Young  Hynd  Horn's  sake. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

The  Bride  cam'  tripping  down  the  stair, 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
The  combs  o'  fine  goud  in  her  hair, 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie; 

A  cup  o*  the  red  wine  in  her  hand, 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
And  that  she  gave  to  the  beggar-man. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

Out  o'  the  cup  he  drank  the  wine, 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 
And  into  the  cup  he  dropt  the  ring, 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 

*'0  gat  thou  this  by  sea  or  by  land? 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian. 
Or  gat  thou  it  aff  a  dead  man's  hand? 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie.^* 

"I  gat  it  neither  by  sea  nor  land, 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian, 
Nor  gat  I  it  from  a  dead  man's  hand, 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 


236        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"But  I  gat  it  at  my  wooing  gay, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

And  I  gie  it  to  you  on  your  wedding-day, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie.' 


"I'll  cast  aside  my  satin  goun, 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian. 

And  I  '11  follow  you  frae  toun  to  toun, 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie, 

"I'll  tak'  the  fine  goud  frae  my  hair. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian, 

And  follow  you  forevermair, 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie." 

He  let  his  eloutie  cloak  doun  fa'. 
With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

Young  Hynd  Horn  shone  above  them  a', 
And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie, 

The  bridegroom  thought  he  had  her  wed. 

With  a  hey  lillelu  and  a  how  lo  Ian; 

But  she  is  Young  Hynd  Horn's  instead. 

And  the  birk  and  the  broom  blooms  bonnie. 
Arranged  by  William  Allingham 


YOUNG  BEICIIAN  AND  SUSIE  PYE    237 
YOUNG  BEICHAN  AND  SUSIE  PYE 

PART  I 

In  London  was  young  Beichan  born, 
He  longed  strange  countries  for  to  see; 

But  he  was  taen  by  a  savage  Moor, 
Who  handled  him  right  cruellie; 

For  he  viewed  the  fashions  of  that  land; 

Their  way  of  worship  viewed  he; 
But  to  Mahound,  or  Termagant, 

Would  Beichan  never  bend  a  knee. 

So  in  every  shoulder  they  've  putten  a  bore ; 

In  every  bore  they've  putten  a  tree; 
And  they  have  made  him  trail  the  wine 

And  spices  on  his  fair  bodie. 

They've  casten  him  in  a  dungeon  deep, 
Where  he  could  neither  hear  nor  see; 

For  seven  years  they  kept  him  there. 
Till  he  for  hunger 's  hke  to  die. 

This  Moor  he  had  but  ae  daughter. 
Her  name  was  called  Susie  Pye; 

And  every  day  as  she  took  the  air, 
Near  Beichan's  prison  she  passed  by. 

O  so  it  fell,  upon  a  day 

She  heard  young  Beichan  sadly  sing: 


238        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

My  hounds  they  all  go  masterless; 

My  hawks  they  flee  from  tree  to  tree; 
My  younger  brother  will  heir  my  land; 

Fair  England  again  I  'II  never  see! 

All  night  long  no  rest  she  got, 

Young  Beichan's  song  for  thinking  on; 

She 's  stown  the  keys  from  her  father's  head. 
And  to  the  prison  strong  is  gone. 

And  she  has  opend  the  prison  doors, 

I  wot  she  opend  two  or  three, 
Ere  she  could  come  young  Beichan  at. 

He  was  locked  up  so  curioushe. 

But  when  she  came  young  Beichan  before, 
Sore  wonderd  he  that  may  to  see; 

He  took  her  for  some  fair  captive;  — 
"Fair  Lady,  I  pray,  of  what  countrie?" 

"O  have  ye  any  lands,"  she  said, 
**0r  castles  in  your  own  countrie. 

That  ye  could  give  to  a  lady  fair, 
From  prison  strong  to  set  you  free?" 

"Near  London  town  I  have  a  hall, 
With  other  castles  two  or  three; 

I'll  give  them  all  to  the  lady  fair 
That  out  of  prison  will  set  me  free." 


YOUNG  BEICIIAN  AND  SUSIE  P\T:    239 

"Give  me  the  truth  of  your  right  hand, 

The  truth  of  it  give  unto  me, 
That  for  seven  years  ye  '11  no  lady  wed. 

Unless  it  be  along  with  me." 

"I'll  give  thee  the  truth  of  my  right  hand. 

The  truth  of  it  I'll  freely  gie, 
That  for  seven  years  I'll  stay  unwed, 

For  the  kindness  thou  dost  show  to  me." 

She's  gi'en  him  to  eat  the  good  spice-cake, 
She's  gi'en  him  to  drink  the  blood-red  wine; 

She's  bidden  him  sometimes  think  on  her. 
That  sae  kindly  freed  him  out  of  pine. 

She 's  broken  a  ring  from  her  finger. 
And  to  Beichan  half  of  it  gave  she: 

"Keep  it,  to  mind  you  of  that  love 
The  lady  bore  that  set  you  free. 

"And  set  your  foot  on  good  ship-board, 
And  haste  ye  back  to  your  own  countrie; 

And  before  that  seven  years  have  an  end. 
Come  back  again,  love,  and  marry  me." 

PART  II 

But  long  ere  seven  years  had  an  end. 
She  longd  full  sore  her  love  to  see; 

For  ever  a  voice  within  her  breast 

Said,  "Beichan  has  broke  his  vow  to  thee." 


240        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

So  she's  set  her  foot  on  good  ship-board, 
And  turnd  her  back  on  her  own  countrie. 

She  sailed  east,  she  sailed  west, 

Till  to  fair  England's  shore  she  came; 

Where  a  bonny  shepherd  she  espied, 
Feeding  his  sheep  upon  the  plain. 

"What  news,  what  news,  thou  bonny  shep- 
herd? 

What  news  hast  thou  to  tell  to  me?'* 
"Such  news  I  hear,  ladie,"  he  says, 

"The  hke  was  never  in  this  countrie. 

"There  is  a  wedding  in  yonder  hall. 
Has  lasted  these  thirty  days  and  three; 

Young  Beichan  will  not  wed  his  bride. 
For  love  of  one  that's  yond  the  sea." 

She's  put  her  hand  in  her  pocket, 
Gi'en  him  the  gold  and  white  monie; 

"Hae,  take  ye  that,  my  bonny  boy, 
For  the  good  news  thou  tell'st  to  me." 

When  she  came  to  young  Beichan's  gate, 

She  tirled  softly  at  the  pin; 
So  ready  was  the  proud  porter 

To  open  and  let  tliis  lady  in. 


YOUNG  BEICILVN  AND  SUSIE  PYE    241 

*'Is  this  young  Bci'chan's  hall,"  she  said, 
"Or  is  that  noble  lord  within?" 

"Yea,  he's  in  the  hall  among  them  all, 
And  this  is  the  day  o'  his  weddin." 

"And  has  he  wed  anither  love? 

And  has  he  clean  forgotten  me?" 
And  sighin'  said  that  gay  ladie, 

"I  wish  I  were  in  my  own  countrie!" 

And  she  has  taen  her  gay  gold  ring, 
That  with  her  love  she  break  so  free; 

Says,  "Gie  him  that,  ye  proud  porter, 
And  bid  the  bridegroom  speak  to  me." 

When  the  porter  came  his  lord  before. 
He  kneeled  down  low  on  his  knee: 

"What  aileth  thee,  my  proud  porter. 
Thou  art  so  full  of  courtesie?" 

"I've  been  porter  at  your  gates. 

It 's  thirty  long  years  now  and  three ; 

But  there  stands  a  lady  at  them  now. 
The  like  o'  her  did  I  never  see; 

"For  on  every  finger  she  has  a  ring, 
And  on  her  mid-finger  she  has  three, 

And  as  meickle  gold  aboon  her  brow 
As  would  buy  an  earldom  to  me." 


242        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Its  out  then  spak  the  bride's  mother. 
Aye,  and  an  angry  woman  was  shee; 

"Ye  might  have  excepted  our  bonny  bride. 
And  twa  or  three  of  our  eompanie." 

*'0  hold  your  tongue,  thou  bride's  mother. 

Of  all  your  folly  let  me  be; 
She 's  ten  times  fairer  nor  the  bride. 

And  all  that's  in  your  eompanie. 


(( 


She  begs  one  sheave  of  your  white  bread. 
But  and  a  cup  of  your  red  wine; 
And  to  remember  the  lady's  love, 
That  last  rehev'd  you  out  of  pine." 

**0  well-a-day!"  said  Beichan  then, 
"That  I  so  soon  have  married  thee; 

For  it  can  be  none  but  Susie  Pye, 
That  sailed  the  sea  for  love  of  me.'* 

And  quickly  hied  he  down  the  stair; 

Of  fifteen  steps  he  made  but  three; 
He 's  taen  his  bonny  love  in  his  arms, 

And  kist  and  kist  her  tenderlie. 

"O  hae  ye  taen  anither  bride? 

And  hae  ye  quite  forgotten  me? 
And  hae  ye  quite  forgotten  her, 

That  gave  you  life  and  hbertie?'* 


YOUNG  BEICIL\N  AND  SUSIE  PYE    243 

She  looked  o'er  her  left  shoulder, 
To  hide  the  tears  stood  in  her  e'e: 

*'Now  fare  thee  well,  young  Beichan,"  she  says, 
"I'll  try  to  think  no  more  on  thee." 

"0  never,  never,  Susie  Pj''e, 

For  surely  this  can  never  be; 
Nor  ever  shall  I  wed  but  her 

That's  done  and  dree'd  so  much  for  me.'* 

Then  out  and  spak  the  forenoon  bride, 
**My  lord,  your  love  it  changeth  soon; 

This  morning  I  was  made  j'our  bride. 
And  another  chose  ere  it  be  noon.'* 

"0  hold  thy  tongue,  thou  forenoon  bride, 
My  true  love,  thou  canst  never  be; 

And  whan  ye  return  to  your  own  countrie, 
A  double  dower  I'll  send  with  thee." 

He's  taen  Susie  Pye  by  the  white  hand. 
And  gently  led  her  up  and  down; 

And  ay  as  he  kist  her  red  rosy  lips, 
"Ye're  welcome,  jewel,  to  your  own." 

He's  taen  her  by  the  milk-wliite  hand. 
And  led  her  to  yon  fountain  stane; 

He 's  changed  her  name  from  Susie  Pye, 

And  he 's  call'd  her  his  bonny  love.  Lady  Jane. 

(Condensed) 


244        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 
THE  CHILD  OF  ELLE 

PART  I 

bN  yonder  hill  a  castle  stands, 
With  walls  and  towers  bedight, 

And  yonder  hves  the  Child  of  EUe, 
A  young  and  comely  Knight. 

The  Child  of  Elle  to  his  garden  went, 
And  stood  at  his  garden  pale, 

When,  lo!  he  beheld  Fair  Emmeline's  page 
Come  tripping  down  the  dale. 

The  Child  of  Elle  he  hied  him  thence 

Y-wis  he  stood  not  still, 
And  soon  he  met  Fair  EmmeHne's  page 

Come  climbing  up  the  hill. 

"Now  Christ  thee  save,  thou  little  foot- 
page  ! 

Now  Christ  thee  save  and  see! 
Oh!  tell  me  how  does  thy  Lady  gay, 

And  what  may  thy  tidings  be?" 

"My  Lady,  she  is  all  woe-begone, 
•     And  the  tears  they  fall  from  her  eyne; 
And  aye  she  laments  the  deadly  feud 
Between  her  house  and  thine. 


THE  CHILD  OF  ELLE  245 

"And  here  she  sends  thee  a  silken  scarf. 

Bedewed  with  many  a  tear, 
And  bids  thee  sometimes  think  on  her. 

Who  loved  thee  so  dear. 

**And  here  she  sends  thee  a  ring  of  gold, 

The  last  boon  thou  mayst  have, 
And  bids  thee  wear  it  for  her  sake. 

When  she  is  laid  in  grave. 

*'For,  ah!  her  gentle  heart  is  broke. 

And  in  grave  soon  must  she  be, 
Sith  her  father  hath  chose  her  a  new,  new  love, 

And  forbid  her  to  think  of  thee. 

"Her  father  hath  brought  her  a  carlish  Kjiight, 
Sir  John  of  the  North  Countraye, 

And  within  three  days  she  must  him  wed, 
Or  he  vows  he  will  her  slay." 

"Now,  hie  thee  back,  thou  little  foot-page. 

And  greet  thy  Lady  from  me, 
And  tell  her  that  I,  her  own  true  love, 

Will  die  or  set  her  free. 

"Now,  hie  thee  back,  thou  little  foot-page. 

And  let  thy  fair  Lady  know, 
This  night  will  I  be  at  her  bower-window 

Betide  me  weal  or  woe!" 


246        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  boy  he  tripped,  the  boy  he  ran, 

He  neither  stint  nor  stayed 
Until  he  came  to  Fair  EmmeKne's  bower. 

When  kneehng  down  he  said :  — 

**0  Lady,  I've  been  with  thy  own  true  love. 
And  he  greets  thee  well  by  me; 

This  night  will  he  be  at  thy  bower-window. 
And  die  or  set  thee  free." 

PART  II 

Now  day  was  gone,  and  night  was  come. 

And  all  were  fast  asleep, 
All  save  the  Lady  Emmeline, 

Who  sate  in  her  bower  to  weep: 

And  soon  she  heard  her  true  love's  voice 

Low  whispering  at  the  wall, 
** Awake!  awake!  my  dear  Lady, 

*T  is  I,  thy  true  love  call. 

"Awake!  awake!  my  Lady  dear. 
Come,  mount  this  fair  palfray; 

This  ladder  of  ropes  will  let  thee  down, 
I'll  carry  thee  hence  away." 

"Now  nay,  now  nay,  thou  gentle  Kiiight, 

Now  nay,  this  may  not  be. 
For  aye  should  I  tint  my  maiden  fame, 

If  alone  I  should  wend  with  thee." 


THE  CHILD  OF  ELLE  247 

"O  Lady,  tliou  with  a  Knight  so  true, 

Mayst  safely  wend  alone; 
To  my  lady-mother  I  will  thee  bring, 

Where  marriage  shall  make  us  one.'* 

"My  father  he  is  a  Baron  bold, 

Of  lineage  proud  and  high; 
And  what  would  he  say,  if  his  daughter 

Away  with  a  Eiiight  should  fly? 

"Ah!  well  I  wot,  he  never  would  rest, 
Nor  his  meat  should  do  him  no  good, 

Till  he  had  slain  thee.  Child  of  Elle, 
And  seen  thy  dear  heart's  blood ! " . 

"O  Lady,  wert  thou  in  thy  saddle  set. 

And  a  little  space  him  fro, 
I  would  not  care  for  thy  cruel  father, 

Nor  the  worst  that  he  could  do. 

"O  Lady,  wert  thou  in  thy  saddle  set. 

And  once  without  this  wall, 
I  would  not  care  for  thy  cruel  father. 

Nor  the  worst  that  might  befall." 

Fair  Emmeline  sighed,  Fair  Emmehne  wept, 

And  aye  her  heart  was  woe: 
At  length  he  seized  her  lily-white  hand. 

And  down  the  ladder  he  drew. 


248        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  thrice  he  clasped  her  to  his  breast. 

And  kissed  her  tenderly, 
The  tears  that  fell  from  her  fair  eyes. 

Ran  like  the  fountain  free. 

He  mounted  himself  on  his  steed  so  tall, 

And  her  on  a  fair  palfray, 
And  slung  his  bugle  about  his  neck, 

And  roundly  they  rode  away. 

All  this  beheard  her  own  damsel. 

In  her  bed  whereas  she  lay. 
Quoth  she,  "My  Lord  shall  know  of  this. 

So  I  shall  have  gold  and  fee!" 

"Awake!  awake!  thou  Baron  bold! 

Awake!  my  noble  Dame! 
Your  daughter  is  j9ed  with  the  Child  of  Elle 

To  do  the  deed  of  shame!" 

The  Baron  he  woke,  the  Baron  he  rose. 

And  called  his  merry  men  all: 
"And  come  thou  forth,  Sir  John  the  Knight, 

The  Lady  is  carried  to  thrall!" 

PART  III 

Fair  Emmeline  scant  had  ridden  a  mile, 

A  mile  forth  of  the  town, 
When  she  was  aware  of  her  father's  men 

Come  galloping  over  the  down. 


THE  CHILD  OF  ELLE  249 

And  foremost  came  the  carlish  Knight, 
'     Sir  John  of  the  North  Countraye, 
"Now  stop!  now  stop!  thou  false  traitor, 
Nor  carry  that  Lady  away ! 

"For  she  is  come  of  high  hneage, 

And  was  of  a  Lady  born. 
And  ill  it  beseems  thee,  a  false  churl's  son. 

To  carry  her  hence  to  scorn!" 

"Now  loud  thou  hest,  Sir  John  the  Knight, 

Now  thou  dost  lie  of  me. 
My  father 's  a  Knight,  a  Lady  me  bore. 

So  never  did  none  by  thee! 

"But  light  now  down,  my  Lady  fair. 

Light  down,  and  hold  my  steed; 
While  I  and  this  discourteous  Knight 

Do  try  this  arduous  deed. 

"But  light  now  down,  my  dear  Lady, 

Light  down,  and  hold  my  horse; 
While  I  and  this  discourteous  Knight 

Do  try  our  valour's  force." 

Fair  Emmeline  sighed.  Fair  Emmeline  wept. 

And  aye  her  heart  was  woe. 
While  twixt  her  love  and  the  carhsh  Knight 

Passed  many  a  baleful  blow. 


250        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  Child  of  Elle,  he  fought  so  well, 
As  his  weapon  he  waved  amain, 

That  soon  he  had  slain  the  carlish  Knight, 
And  laid  him  upon  the  plain. 

And  now  the  Baron  and  all  his  men 

Full  fast  approached  nigh: 
Ah!  what  may  Lady  Emmehne  do? 

'T  were  now  no  boot  to  fly ! 

Her  lover,  he  put  his  horn  to  his  mouth, 
And  blew  both  loud  and  shrill. 

And  soon  he  saw  his  own  merry  men 
Come  riding  over  the  hill. 

"Now  hold  thy  hand,  thou  bold  Baron, 

I  pray  thee,  hold  thy  hand, 
Nor  ruthless  rend  two  gentle  hearts 

Fast  knit  in  true  love's  band. 

"Thy  daughter  I  have  dearly  loved. 

Full  long  and  many  a  day; 
But  with  such  love  as  holy  Kirk 

Hath  freely  said  we  may. 

"Oh!  give  consent  she  may  be  mine. 

And  bless  a  faithful  pair; 
My  lands  and  Hvings  are  not  small. 

My  house  and  lineage  fair, 


THE  CHILD  OF  ELLE  251 

"My  mother  she  was  an  Earl's  daughter, 
And  a  noble  Knight  my  sire  — " 

The  Baron  he  frowned,  and  turned  away 
With  mickle  dole  and  ire. 

Fair  Emmeline  sighed,  Fair  Emmeline  wept, 

And  did  all  trembling  stand; 
At  length  she  sprang  upon  her  knee, 

And  held  his  lifted  hand. 

"Pardon,  my  Lord  and  Father  dear. 

This  fair  young  Knight  and  me ! 
Trust  me,  but  for  the  carlish  Knight, 

I  never  had  fled  from  thee. 

"Oft  have  you  called  your  Emmeline, 

Your  darling  and  your  joy; 
Oh !  let  not  then  your  harsh  resolves 

Your  Emmeline  destroy.' 


>» 


The  Baron  he  stroked  his  dark-brown  cheek, 

And  turned  his  head  aside 
To  wipe  away  the  starting  tear, 

He  proudly  strave  to  hide. 

Li  deep  revolving  thought  he  stood. 

And  mused  a  little  space: 
Then  raised  Fair  Emmeline  from  the  ground, 

With  many  a  fond  embrace. 


252        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Here,  take  her,  Child  of  Elle,"  he  said 

And  gave  her  Hly  hand: 
"Here,  take  my  dear  and  only  child. 

And  with  her  half  my  land. 

"Tliy  father  once  mine  honour  wronged 

In  days  of  youthful  pride; 
Do  thou  the  injury  repair 

In  fondness  for  thy  bride. 

"And  as  thou  love  her,  and  hold  her  dear, 

Heaven  prosper  thee  and  thine; 
And  now  my  blessing  wend  wi'  thee, 
My  lovely  Emmeline." 

Attributed  in  part  to  Bishop  Percy 
(Jn  modern  spelling) 


FOR  HALLOWEEN  AND  MIDSmiMER  EVE 


THE  SPELL 

At  eve  last  Midsummer,  no  sleep  I  sought. 
But  to  the  field  a  bag  of  Hempseed  brought; 
I  scattered  round  the  seed  on  every  side. 
And  three  times  in  a  trembling  accent  cried: 
"  This  Hempseed  with  my  virgin  hand  I  sow. 
Who  shall  my  True-love  be,  the  crop  shall  mow!" 
I  straight  looked  back,  and  if  my  eyes  speak  truth. 
With  his  keen  scythe  behind  me  came  the  youth! 
With  my  sharp  heel  I  three  times  mark  the  ground. 
And  turn  me  thrice,  around,  around,  around! 

Last  May-day  Fair,  I  searched  to  find  a  SnaU, 

That  might  my  secret  Lover  s  name  reveal. 

Two  Hazel-nuts  I  threw  into  the  flame. 

And  to  each  nut  I  gave  a  sweetheart's  name. 

This  with  the  loudest  bounce  me  sore  amazed. 

That  in  aflame  of  brightest  colour  blazed. 

With  my  sharp  heel,  I  three  times  mark  the  ground. 
And  turn  me  thrice,  around,  around,  around/ 

This  mellow  Pippin  which  I  pare  around. 

My  Shepherd's  name  shall  flourish  on  the  ground. 

I  fling  the  unbroken  paring  o'er  my  head. 

Upon  the  grass  a  perfect  L  is  read. 

Yet  on  my  heart  a  fairer  L  is  seen 

Than  what  the  paring  marks  upon  the  green. 

With  my  sharp  heel,  I  three  times  mark  the  ground. 
And  turn  me  thrice,  around,  around,  around! 

John  Gay.  {Condensed) 


THE  YOUNG  TA^ILANE 

PART  I 

"01  FORBID  ye,  maidens  a', 
That  wear  gowd  on  your  hair. 

To  come  or  gae  by  Carterhaugh, 
For  young  Tamlane  is  there.'* 

But  up  then  spake  her,  fair  Janet, 

The  fairest  o'  a'  her  kin; 
"I'll  cum  and  gang  to  Carterhaugh, 

And  ask  nae  leave  o'  him." 

Janet  has  kilted  her  green  kirtle, 

A  little  abune  her  knee; 
And  she  has  braided  her  yellow  hair, 

A  httle  abune  her  bree. 

And  when  she  came  to  Carterhaugh, 

She  gaed  beside  the  well; 
And  there  she  fand  his  steed  standing. 

But  awa  was  himsell. 

She  hadna  pu'd  a  red  red  rose, 

A  rose  but  barely  three; 
Till  up  and  starts  a  wee  wee  man. 

At  lady  Janet's  knee. 


256        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Says  —  "Why  pu'  ye  the  rose,  Janet? 

What  gars  ye  break  the  tree? 
Or  why  come  ye  to  Carterhaugh, 

Withouten  leave  o'  me  ?  "  — 

Says  —  "Carterhaugh  it  is  mine  ain; 

My  daddie  gave  it  me : 
I  '11  come  and  gang  to  Carterhaugh, 

And  ask  nae  leave  o'  thee. 

"The  truth  ye '11  tell  to  me,  Tamlane: 

A  word  ye  mauna  lie; 
Gin  e'er  ye  was  in  haly  chapel. 

Or  sained  in  Christen  tie?"  — 

"The  truth  I'll  tell  to  thee,  Janet, 

A  word  I  winna  lee: 
My  father's  a  knight,  a  lady  me  bore. 

As  well  as  they  did  thee. 

"Randolph,  earl  Murray,  was  my  sire, 
Dunbar,  earl  March,  is  thine; 

We  loved  when  we  were  children  small, 
Which  yet  you  well  may  mind. 

"When  I  was  a  boy  just  turn'd  of  nine. 

My  uncle  sent  for  me. 
To  hunt,  and  hawk,  and  ride  with  him, 

And  keep  him  cumpanie. 


THE  YOUNG  TAMLANE  257 

*'  There  came  a  wind  out  of  the  north, 

A  sharp  wind  and  a  sncll; 
And  a  dead  sleep  came  over  me, 

And  frae  my  horse  I  fell. 

**The  Queen  of  Fairies  keppit  me 

In  yon  green  hill  to  dwell; 
And  I'm  a  fairy,  lyth  and  limb; 

Fair  ladye,  view  me  well. 

**But  we,  that  live  in  Fairy-land, 

No  sickness  know  nor  pain, 
I  quit  my  body  when  I  will. 

And  take  to  it  again. 

*'I  quit  my  body  when  I  please, 

Or  unto  it  repair; 
We  can  inhabit  at  our  ease, 

In  either  earth  or  air.  f 

**Our  shapes  and  size  we  can  convert 

To  either  large  or  small; 
An  old  nut-shell 's  the  same  to  us 

As  is  the  lofty  hall. 

"We  sleep  in  rose-buds  soft  and  sweet, 

We  revel  in  the  stream; 
We  wanton  lightly  on  the  wind. 

Or  ghde  on  a  sunbeam. 


258        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

'"And  all  our  wants  are  well  supplied 

From  every  rich  man's  store. 
Who  thankless  sins  the  gifts  he  gets, 
And  vainly  grasps  for  more.  , 

"Then  I  would  never  tire,  Janet, 

Li  Elfish  land  to  dwell; 
But  aye,  at  every  seven  years. 

They  pay  the  teind  to  hell; 
And  I  am  sae  fat  and  fair  of  flesh, 

I  fear  't  will  be  mysell. 

"This  night  is  Hallowe'en,  Janet, 

The  mom  is  Hallowday; 
And,  gin  ye  dare  your  true  love  win, 

Ye  na  hae  time  to  stay. 

"The  night  it  is  good  Hallowe'en, 
When  fairy  folk  will  ride; 

And  they  that  wad  their  true  love  win 
At  Miles  Cross  they  maun  bide."  — 

"But  how  shall  I  thee  ken,  Tamlane? 

Or  how  shall  I  thee  knaw, 
Amang  so  many  unearthly  knights, 

The  like  I  never  saw?"  — 

"The  first  company  that  passes  by. 
Say  na,  and  let  them  gae; 


THE  YOUNG  TAMLANE  259 

The  next  company  that  passes  by, 

Say  na,  and  do  right  sae; 
The  third  company  that  passes  by, 

Then  I  '11  be  ane  o'  thae. 

"First  let  pass  the  black,  Janet, 
And  syne  let  pass  the  brown; 

But  grip  ye  to  the  milk-white  steed. 
And  pu'  the  rider  down. 

"For  I  ride  on  the  milk-white  steed, 

And  aye  nearest  the  town; 
Because  I  was  a  christen'd  knight, 

They  gave  me  that  renown. 

t 

"My  right  hand  will  be  gloved,  Janet, 

My  left  hand  will  be  bare; 
And  these  the  tokens  I  gie  thee, 

Nae  doubt  I  will  be  there. 

"They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

An  adder  and  a  snake; 
But  baud  me  fast,  let  me  not  pass. 

Gin  ye  wad  be  my  maik. 

"They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

An  adder  and  an  ask; 
They  '11  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

A  bale  that  burns  fast. 


260        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

A  red-hot  gad  o'  aim; 
But  haud  me  fast,  let  me  not  pass. 

For  I  '11  do  you  no  harm. 

"And,  next,  they'll  shape  me  in  your  arms, 

A  tod,  but  and  an  eel; 
But  haud  me  fast,  nor  let  me  gang. 

As  you  do  love  me  weel. 

"They'll  shape  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

A  dove,  but  and  a  swan; 
And,  last,  they  '11  shape  me  in  your  arms 

A  mother-naked  man: 
Cast  your  green  mantle  over  me  — 

I'll  be  myself  again."  — 

PART  II 

Gloomy,  gloomy,  was  the  night. 

And  eiry  was  the  way, 
As  fair  Janet  in  her  green  mantle. 

To  Miles  Cross  she  did  gae. 

The  heavens  were  black,  the  night  was  dark. 

And  dreary  was  the  place; 
But  Janet  stood,  with  eager  wish. 

Her  lover  to  embrace. 

Betwixt  the  hours  of  twelve  and  one, 
A  north  wind  tore  the  bent; 


THE  YOUNG  TAMLANE  2G1 

And  straight  she  heard  strange  eiritch  sounds. 
Upon  that  wind  which  went. 

About  the  dead  hour  o'  the  night, 

She  heard  the  bridles  ring; 
And  Janet  was  as  glad  o'  that 

As  any  earthly  thing. 

Their  oaten  pipes  blew  wondrous  shrill, 

The  hemlock  small  blew  clear; 
And  louder  notes  from  hemlock  large. 

And  bog-reed,  struck  the  ear; 
But  solemn  sounds,  or  sober  thoughts, 

The  Fairies  cannot  bear. 

They  sing,  inspired  with  love  and  joy. 

Like  skylarks  in  the  air; 
Of  solid  sense,  or  thought  that's  grave. 

You'll  find  no  traces  there. 

Fair  Janet  stood,  with  mind  unmoved, 

The  dreary  heath  upon; 
And  louder,  louder  wax'd  the  sound, 

As  they  came  riding  on. 

Will  o'  Wisp  before  them  went. 

Sent  forth  a  twinkling  light; 
And  soon  she  saw  the  fairy  bands 

All  riding  in  her  sight. 


262        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  first  gaed  by  the  black,  black  steed, 
And  then  gaed  by  the  brown; 

But  fast  she  gript  the  milk-wliite  steed. 
And  pu'd  the  rider  down. 

,She  pu'd  him  frae  the  milk-white  steed, 

And  loot  the  bridle  fa' ; 
And  up  there  raise  an  erlish  cry  — 

"He's  won  amang  us  a'!"  — 

They  shaped  him  in  fair  Janet's  arms, 

A  tod,  but  and  an  eel; 
She  held  him  fast  in  every  shape  — 

As  she  did  love  him  weel. 

They  shaped  him  in  her  arms  at  last, 

A  mother-naked  man; 
She  wrapt  him  in  her  green  mantle. 

And  sae  her  true  love  wan ! 

Up  then  spake  the  queen  o'  fairies. 

Out  o'  a  bush  o'  broom  — 
"She  that  has  borrow'd  young  Tamlane, 

Has  gotten  a  stately  groom."  — 

Up  then  spake  the  queen  o'  Fairies, 

Out  o'  a  bush  o'  rye  — 
"  She's  ta'en  awa  the  bonniest  knight 

In  a'  my  cumpanie. 


THE  WIFE  OF  USHER'S  WELL     263 

*'But  had  I  kcnn'd,  Tamlane,"  she  says, 
"A  ladye  wad  borrow'd  tlice  — 

I  wad  ta'en  out  thy  twa  grey  een. 
Put  in  twa  een  o'  tree. 

*'Had  I  but  kenn'd,  Tamlane,"  she  says, 

"  Before  ye  came  frae  hame  — 
I  wad  ta'en  out  your  heart  o'  flesh, 

Put  in  a  heart  o'  stane. ' 


"Had  I  but  had  the  wit  yestreen 

That  I  hae  coft  the  day  — 
I  'd  paid  my  kane  seven  times  to  hell 

Ere  you'd  been  won  away!" 

(Condensed) 


THE  WIFE  OF  USHER'S  W^ELL 

There  lived  a  wife  at  Usher's  Well, 
And  a  wealthy  wife  was  she, 

She  had  three  stout  and  stalwart  sons. 
And  sent  them  o'er  the  sea. 


They  hadna  been  a  week  from  her, 

A  week  but  barely  ane, 
When  word  came  back  to  the  carline  wife. 

That  her  three  sons  were  gane. 


264        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

They  hadna  been  a  week  from  her, 

A  week  but  barely  three, 
When  word  came  to  the  carhne  wife, 

That  her  sons  she  'd  never  see. 

"I  wish  the  wind  may  never  cease. 

Nor  fashes  in  the  flood. 
Till  my  three  sons  come  hame  to  me. 

In  earthly  flesh  and  blood!"  — 

It  fell  about  the  Martinmas, 
When  nights  are  lang  and  mirk. 

The  carline  wife's  three  sons  cam  hame. 
And  their  hats  were  o'  the  birk. 

It  neither  grew  in  syke  nor  ditch, 

Nor  yet  in  ony  sheugh; 
But  at  the  gates  o'  Paradise, 

That  birk  grew  fair  eneuch. 

"Blow  up  the  fire,  my  maidens! 

Bring  water  from  the  well ! 
For  a'  my  house  shall  feast  this  night. 

Since  my  three  sons  are  well."  — 

And  she  has  made  to  them  a  bed. 
She's  made  it  large  and  wide; 

And  she 's  ta'en  her  mantle  her  about. 
Sat  down  at  the  bedside. 


SIR  ROLAND  205 

Up  then  crew  the  red  red  cock. 

And  up  and  crew  the  gray; 
The  eldest  to  the  youngest  said, 

'"Tis  time  we  were  away."  — 

The  cock  he  hadna  craw'd  but  ance. 

And  clapp'd  his  wings  at  a'. 
When  the  youngest  to  the  eldest  said, 

"Brother,  we  must  awa.  — 

"The  cock  doth  craw,  the  day  doth  daw 
The  channerin'  worm  doth  chide; 

Gin  we  be  mist  out  o'  our  place, 
A  sair  pain  we  maun  bide. 

"Fare  ye  weel,  my  mother  dear! 

Fareweel  to  barn  and  byre! 
And  fare  ye  weel,  the  bonny  lass, 

That  kindles  my  mother's  fire." 

SIR  ROLAND 

Whan  he  cam  to  his  ain  luve's  bouir, 

He  tirled  at  the  pin; 
And  sae  ready  was  his  fair  fause  luve 

To  rise  and  let  him  in. 

"Oh!  welcome,  welcome,  Sir  Roland,'*  she  says, 
"Thrice  welcome  thou  art  to  me; 


266        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

For  this  night  thou  wilt  feast  in  my  secret 
bouir 
And  to-morrow  we'll  wedded  be." 

"This  night  is  Hallow  Eve,"  he  said, 
"And  to-morrow  is  Hallow-day; 

And  I  dreamed  a  drearie  dream  yestreen, 
That  has  made  my  heart  fu'  wae. 

J 

"I  dreamed  a  drearie  dream  yestreen, 
And  I  wish  it  may  come  to  gude; 

I  dreamed  that  ye  slew  my  best  grew  hound, 
And  gied  me  his  lappered  blude." 

"Unbuckle  your  belt,  Sir  Roland,"  she  said, 

"And  set  you  safely  down." 
"Oh!  your  chamber  is  very  dark,  fair  maid, 

And  the  night  is  wondrous  lown." 

"Yes,  dark  dark  is  my  secret  bowir. 
And  lown  the  midnight  may  be; 

For  there  is  none  waking  in  a'  this  tower 
But  thou,  my  true  love,  and  me."^ 

She  has  mounted  on  her  true  love's  steed. 

By  the  ae  light  o'  the  moon; 
She  has  whipped  him  and  spurred  him. 

And  roundly  she  rade  frae  the  toun. 


SIR  ROIAND  267 

She  hadna  ridden  a  mile  o'  gate. 

Never  a  mile  but  ane, 
Whan  she  was  aware  of  a  tall  young  man, 

Slow  riding  o'er  the  plain. 

She  turned  her  to  the  right  about, 

Then  to  the  left  turned  she; 
But  aye  'tween  her  and  the  wan  moonlight 

That  tall  Knight  did  she  see. 

And  he  was  riding  burd  alane, 

On  a  horse  as  black  as  jet; 
But  tho'  she  followed  him  fast  and  fell, 

No  nearer  could  she  get. 

**0h  stop!  Oh  stop!  young  man,"  she  said; 

"For  I  in  dule  am  dight; 
Oh  stop,  and  win  a  fair  lady's  luve, , 

If  you  be  a  leal  true  Knight." 

> 

But  nothing  did  the  tall  Knight  say, 

And  nothing  did  he  bhn; 
Still  slowly  rode  he  on  before 

And  fast  she  rade  behind. 

She  whipped  her  steed,  she  spurred  her  steed. 

Till  his  breast  was  all  a  foam; 
But  nearer  unto  that  tall  young  Knight, 

The  Lady,  she  could  not  come. 


268        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Oh,  if  you  be  a  gay  young  KJiight, 

As  well  I  trow  you  be, 
Pull  tight  your  bridle  reins,  and  stay 

Till  I  come  up  to  thee." 

But  nothing  did  that  tall  Knight  say. 

And  no  whit  did  he  blin, 
Until  he  reached  a  broad  river's  side 

And  there  he  drew  his  rein. 


**0h,  is  this  water  deep?"  he  said, 

"As  it  is  wondrous  dun? 
Or  is  it  sic  as  a  saikless  maid 

And  a  leal  true  Knight  may  swim? 

"The  water  it  is  deep,"  she  said, 

"As  it  is  wondrous  dun; 
But  it  is  sic  as  a  saikless  maid 

And  a  leal  true  Knight  may  swim. 


>» 


>» 


The  Knight  spurred  on  his  tall  black  steed; 

The  Lady  spurred  on  her  brown; 
And  fast  they  rade  into  the  flood, 

And  fast  they  baith  swam  down. 

"The  water  weets  my  tae,"  she  said; 

"The  water  weets  my  knee; 
And  hold  up  my  bridle  reins,  Sir  Knight, 

For  the  sake  of  Our  Ladye." 


SIR  ROLiVND  269 

"If  I  would  help  thee  now,"  he  said, 

"It  were  a  deadly  sin; 
For  I've  sworn  neir  to  trust  a  fair  may's  word, 

Till  the  water  weets  her  chin." 

"Oh!  the  water  weets  my  waist,"  she  said; 

"Sae  does  it  weet  my  skin; 
And  my  aching  heart  rins  round  about. 

The  burn  maks  sic  a  din. 

"The  water  is  waxing  deeper  still, 

Sae  does  it  wax  mair  wide; 
And  aye  the  farther  that  we  ride  on, 

Farther  off  is  the  other  side. 

"Oh,  help  me  now,  thou  fause  fause  Knight! 

Have  pity  on  my  youth; 
For  now  the  water  jawes  owre  my  head. 

And  it  gurgles  in  my  mouth." 

The  Knight  turned  right  and  round  about. 

All  in  the  middle  stream; 
And  he  stretched  out  his  head  to  that  Ladie 

But  loudly  she  did  scream ! 

"Oh,  this  is  Hallow-morn,"  he  said, 

"And  it  is  your  bridal  day; 
But  sad  would  be  that  gay  wedding. 

If  bridegroom  and  bride  were  away. 


270        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"And  ride  on,  ride  on,  proud  Margaret! 

Till  the  water  comes  o'er  your  bree; 
For  the  bride  maun  ride  deep  and  deeper  yet, 

Wha  rides  this  ford  wi'  me! 

"Turn  round,  turn  round,  proud  Margaret! 

Turn  ye  round,  and  look  on  me ! 
Thou  hast  killed  a  true  Knight  under  trust. 

And  his  Ghost  now  links  on  with  thee." 


THE  SKELETON  IN  ARMOUR 

"Speak!  speak!  thou  fearful  guest! 
Who,  with  thy  hollow  breast 
Still  in  rude  armour  drest, 

Comest  to  daunt  me! 
Wrapt  not  in  Eastern  balms. 
But  with  thy  fleshless  palms 
Stretched,  as  if  asldng  alms. 
Why  dost  thou  haunt  me?'* 

Then,  from  those  cavernous  eyes 
Pale  flashes  seemed  to  rise,    ' 
As  when  the  Northern  skies 

Gleam  in  December; 
And,  like  the  water's  flow 
Under  December's  snow. 
Came  a  dull  voice  of  woe 

From  the  heart's  chamber. 


THE  SKELETON  IN  ARINIOUR      271 

*'I  was  a  Viking  old! 
My  deeds,  though  manifold. 
No  Skald  in  song  has  told. 

No  Saga  taught  thee! 
Take  heed,  that  in  thy  verse 
Thou  dost  the  tale  rehearse, 
Else  dread  a  dead  man's  curse; 
For  this  I  sought  thee. 

"Far  in  the  Northern  Land, 
By  the  wild  Baltic's  strand,  | 
I,  with  my  childish  hand. 

Tamed  the  gerfalcon; 
And,  with  my  skates  fast-bound. 
Skimmed  the  half-frozen  Sound, 
That  the  poor  whimpering  hound 
Trembled  to  walk  on. 

"Oft  to  his  frozen  lair 
Tracked  I  the  grisly  bear, 
JWhile  from  my  path  the  hare 

Fled  hke  a  shadow; 
Oft  through  the  forest  dark 
Followed  the  were-wolf's  bark. 
Until  the  soaring  lark 

Sang  from  the  meadow. 

"But  when  I  older  grew. 
Joining  a  corsair's  crew. 


272        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

O'er  the  dark  sea  I  flew 
With  the  marauders. 

Wild  was  the  hfe  we  led; 

Many  the  souls  that  sped, 

Many  the  hearts  that  bled, 
By  our  stern  orders. 

"Many  a  wassail-bout 
Wore  the  long  Winter  out; 
Often  our  midnight  shout 

Set  the  cocks  crowing. 
As  we  the  Berserk's  tale 
Measured  in  cups  of  ale. 
Draining  the  oaken  pail, 

Filled  to  o'erflowing. 

"Once  as  I  told  in  glee 
Tales  of  the  stormy  sea, 
Soft  eyes  did  gaze  on  me, 

Burning  yet  tender; 
And  as  the  white  stars  shine 
On  the  dark  Norway  pine, 
On  that  dark  heart  of  mine 
Fell  their  soft  splendour. 

"I  wooed  the  blue-eyed  maid, 
Yielding,  yet  half  afraid. 
And  in  the  forest  shade 
Our  vows  were  plighted. 


THE  SKELETON  IN  ARMOUR      273 

Under  its  loosened  vest 
Fluttered  her  little  breast, 
Like  birds  within  their  nest 
By  the  hawk  frighted. 

"Bright  in  her  father's  hall 
Shields  gleamed  upon  the  wall, 
Loud  sang  the  minstrels  all, 

Chanting  his  glory; 
When  of  old  Hildebrand 
I  asked  his  daughter's  hand, 
Mute  did  the  minstrels  stand 

To  hear  my  story. 

"While  the  brown  ale  he  quaffed, 
Loud  then  the  champion  laughed. 
And  as  the  wind-gusts  waft 

The  sea-foam  brightly, 
So  the  loud  laugh  of  scorn. 
Out  of  those  lips  unshorn, 
From  the  deep  drinking-horn 

Blew  the  foam  lightly. 

"She  was  a  Prince's  child, 
I  but  a  Viking  wild. 
And  though  she  blushed  and  smiled, 

I  was  discarded ! 
Should  not  the  dove  so  white 
Follow  the  sea-mew's  flight. 


274        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Why  did  they  leave  that  night 
Her  nest  unguarded? 

''Scarce  had  I  put  to  sea, 
Bearing  the  maid  with  me. 
Fairest  of  all  was  she 

Among  the  Norsemen ! 
When  on  the  white  sea-strand, 
Waving  his  armed  hand, 
Saw  we  old  Hildebrand, 
With  twenty  horsemen. 

"Then  launched  they  to  the  blast. 
Bent  like  a  reed  each  mast. 
Yet  we  were  gaining  fast. 

When  the  wind  failed  us; 
And  with  a  sudden  flaw 
Came  round  the  gusty  Skaw, 
So  that  our  foe  we  saw 
Laugh  as  he  hailed  us. 

"And  as  to  catch  the  gale 
Round  veered  the  flapping  sail, 
'Death!'  was  the  helmsman's  hail, 

'Death  witliout  quarter!* 
Mid-ships  with  iron  keel 
Struck  we  her  ribs  of  steel; 
Down  her  black  hulk  did  reel 
Through  the  black  water ! 


THE  SKELETON  IN  ARMOUR      275 

"As  with  his  wings  aslant, 
Sails  the  fierce  cormorant, 
Seeking  some  rocky  haunt, 
With  his  prey  laden,  — 
So  toward  the  open  main, 
Beating  to  sea  again. 
Through  the  wild  hurricane, 
Bore  I  the  maiden. 

"Three  weeks  we  westward  bore, 
And  when  the  storm  was  o'er, 
Cloud-like  we  saw  the  shore 

Stretching  to  leeward; 
There  for  my  lady's  bower 
Built  I  the  lofty  tower, 
Which,  to  this  very  hour. 
Stands  looking  seaward. 

"There  Hved  we  many  years; 
Time  dried  the  maiden's  tears; 
She  had  forgot  her  fears, 

She  was  a  mother; 
Death  closed  her  mild  blue  eyes, 
Under  that  tower  she  Hes; 
Ne'er  shall  the  sun  arise 
On  su-ch  another! 

"Still  grew  my  bosom  then. 
Still  as  a  stagnant  fen ! 


276      ,  STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Hateful  to  me  were  men, 

The  sunlight  hateful! 
In  the  vast  forest  here. 
Clad  in  my  warlike  gear. 
Fell  I  upon  my  spear, 

Oh,  death  was  grateful! 

"Thus,  seamed  with  many  scars, 
Bursting  these  prison  bars. 
Up  to  its  native  stars 
My  soul  ascended! 
There  from  the  flowing  bowl 
Deep  drinks  the  warrior's  soul. 
Skoal!  to  the  Northland!  skoair' 

Thus  the  tale  ended. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 

SWEET  WILLIAM'S  GHOST 

There  came  a  ghost  to  Margret's  door, 
With  many  a  grievous  groan, 

And  ay  he  tirled  at  the  pin. 
But  answer  made  she  none. 


"Is  that  my  father  Philip, 
Or  is  't  my  brother  John? 

Or  is  't  my  true-love,  Willy, 

From  Scotland  new  come  home?" 


SWEET  WILLIAIVI'S  GHOST        277 

"  Tis  not  thy  father  Philip, 

Nor  yet  thy  brother  John; 
But  tis  thy  true-love,  Willy, 

From  Scotland  new  come  home. 

"O  sweet  Margret,  O  dear  INIargret, 

I  pray  thee  speak  to  me; 
Give  me  my  faith  and  troth,  Margret, 

As  I  gave  it  to  thee." 

*'Thy  faith  and  troth  thou's  never  get, 

Nor  yet  will  I  thee  lend. 
Till  that  thou  come  within  my  bower. 

And  kiss  my  cheek  and  chin. 


>» 


"If  I  shoud  come  within  thy  bower, 

I  am  no  earthly  man; 
And  shoud  I  kiss  thy  rosy  lips, 

Thy  days  will  not  be  lang. 

"O  sweet  Margret,  O  dear  Margret, 

I  pray  thee  speak  to  me; 
Give  me  my  faith  and  troth,  Margret, 

As  I  gave  it  to  thee." 

"Thy  faith  and  troth  thou's  never  get, 

Nor  yet  will  I  thee  lend. 
Till  you  take  me  to  yon  kirk, 

And  wed  me  with  a  ring." 


278        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

*'My  bones  are  buried  in  yon  kirk-yard, 

Afar  beyond  the  sea, 
And  it  is  but  my  spirit,  Margret, 

That's  now  speaking  to  thee." 

She  stretchd  out  her  hlly-white  hand. 

And,  for  to  do  her  best, 
"Hae,  there's  your  faith  and  troth,  Willy, 

God  send  your  soul  good  rest." 

Now  she  has  kilted  her  robes  of  green 

A  piece  below  her  knee, 
And  a'  the  live-lang  winter  night 

The  dead  corp  followed  she. 

"Is  there  any  room  at  your  head,  Willy? 

Or  any  room  at  your  feet? 
Or  any  room  at  your  side,  Willy, 

Wherein  that  I  may  creep?" 

** There's  no  room  at  my  head,  Margret, 
There's  no  room  at  my  feet; 

There's  no  room  at  my  side,  Margret, 
My  coffin's  made  so  meet." 


Then  up  and  crew  the  red,  red  cock. 
And  up  then  crew  the  gray: 

*'Tis  time,  tis  time,  my  dear  Margret, 
That  you  were  going  away." 


THE  EVE  OF  ST.  JOHN  279 

No  more  the  ghost  to  Margret  said, 

But,  with  a  grievous  groan, 
Evanishd  in  a  cloud  of  mist, 

And  left  her  all  alone. 

**0  stay,  my  only  true-love,  stay,'* 

The  constant  Margret  cry'd; 
Wan  grew  her  cheeks,  she  closd  her  een, 

Stretchd  her  soft  limbs,  and  dy'd. 


THE  EVE  OF  ST.  JOHN 

PART  I 

The  Baron  of  Smaylho'me  rose  with  day. 

He  spurred  his  courser  on, 
Without  stop  or  stay,  down  the  rocky  way, 

That  leads  to  Brotherstone. 

He  went  not  with  the  bold  Buccleuch, 

His  banner  broad  to  rear; 
He  went  not  'gainst  the  EngHsh  yew, 

To  lift  the  Scottish  spear. 

Yet  his  plate-jack  was  braced,  and  his  helmet 
was  laced. 

And  liis  vaunt-brace  of  proof  he  wore; 
At  his  saddle-gerthe  was  a  good  steel  sperthe, 

Full  ten  pound  weight  and  more. 


280        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  Baron  returned  in  three  days'  space, 

And  his  looks  were  sad  and  sour; 
And  weary  was  his  courser's  pace, 

As  he  reached  his  rocky  tower. 

He  came  not  from  where  Ancram  Moor 

Ran  red  with  Enghsh  blood; 
Where  the  Douglas  true,  and  the  bold  Buccleuch, 

'Gainst  keen  Lord  Evers  stood. 

Yet  was  his  helmet  hacked  and  hewed, 

His  acton  pierced  and  tore, 
His  axe  and  his  dagger  with  blood  imbrued,  — 

But  it  was  not  English  gore. 

He  Hghted  at  the  Chapellage, 

He  held  him  close  and  still; 
And  he  wliistled  thrice  for  his  little  foot-page, 

His  name  was  English  Will. 

"Come  thou  hither,  my  little  foot-page. 

Come  hither  to  my  knee; 
Though  thou  art  young,  and  tender  of  age, 

I  think  thou  art  true  to  me. 

"Come,  tell  me  all  that  thou  hast  seen. 

And  look  thou  tell  me  true! 
Since  I  from  Smaylho'me  tower  have  been. 

What  did  thy  Lady  do?"  — 


THE  EVE  OF  ST.  JOHN  281 

*'My  Lady,  each  night,  sought  the  lonely  light, 
That  burns  on  the  wild  Watchfold; 

For,  from  height  to  height,  the  beacons  bright 
Of  the  English  foemen  told. 

"The  bittern  clamoured  from  the  moss. 

The  wind  blew^  loud  and  shrill; 
Yet  the  craggy  pathway  she  did  cross. 

To  the  eiry  Beacon  Hill. 

*'I  watched  her  steps,  and  silent  came 
Where  she  sat  her  on  a  stone;  — 

No  watchman  stood  by  the  drearj'  flame. 
It  burned  all  alone. 

"The  second  night  I  kept  her  in  sight, 

Till  to  the  fire  she  came. 
And,  by  Mary's  might!  an  armed  Knight 

Stood  by  the  lonely  flame. 

"And  many  a  w^ord  that  warHke  lord 

Did  speak  to  my  Lady  there; 
But  the  rain  fell  fast,  and  loud  blew  the  blast, 

And  I  heard  not  what  they  were. 

"The  tliird  night  there  the  sky  was  fair. 
And  the  mountain  blast  was  still. 

As  again  I  watched  the  secret  pair. 
On  the  lonesome  Beacon  Hill. 


282        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

*'And  I  heard  her  name  the  midnight  hour. 

And  name  this  holy  eve; 
And  say,  'Come  this  night  to  thy  Lady's  bower; 

Ask  no  bold  Baron's  leave. 

"'He  lifts  his  spear  with  the  bold  Buccleuch; 

His  Lady  is  all  alone; 
The  door  she  '11  undo,  to  her  Knight  so  true, 

On  the  Eve  of  good  St.  John.'  — 

*"I  cannot  come;  I  must  not  come; 

I  dare  not  come  to  thee; 
On  the  Eve  of  St.  John  I  must  wander  alone: 

In  thy  bower  I  may  not  be.'  — 

"'Now,  out  on  thee,  faint-hearted  Knight! 

Thou  shouldst  not  say  me  nay; 
For  the  eve  is  sweet,  and  when  lovers  meet, 

Is  worth  the  whole  summer's  day. 

"*And  I'll  chain  the  bloodhound,  and  the  warder 
shall  not  sound, 

And  rushes  shall  be  strewed  on  the  stair; 
So,  by  the  black  rood-stone,  and  by  holy  St.  John, 

I  conjure  thee,  my  Love,  to  be  there ! '  — 

"'Though  the  bloodhound  be  mute,  and  the  rush 
beneath  my  foot, 
And  the  warder  his  bugle  should  not  blow, 


THE  E\^  OF  ST.  JOHN  283 

Yet  there  sleepeth  a  priest  in  the  chamber  to  the 
East, 
And  my  footstep  he  would  know.'  — 

***0  fear  not  the  priest,  who  sleepeth  to  the 
East! 

For  to  Dryburgh  the  way  he  has  ta'en; 
And  there  to  say  mass,  till  three  days  do  pass, 

For  the  soul  of  a  Knight  that  is  slain.'  — 

*'He  turned  him  around,  and  grimly  he  frowned; 

Then  he  laughed  right  scornfully  — 
*He  who  says  the  mass-rite  for  the  soul  of  that 
Knight, 

May  as  well  say  mass  for  me: 

"*At  the  lone  midnight  hour,  when  bad  spirits 
have  power, 

In  thy  chamber  will  I  be.'  — 
"With  that  he  was  gone,  and  my  Lady  left  alone. 

And  no  more  did  I  see." 

Then  changed,  I  trow,  was  that  bold  Baron's 
brow, 
From  the  dark  to  the  blood-red  high, 
"Now,  tell  me  the  mien  of  the  Knight  thou  hast 
seen, 
For,  by  Mary,  he  shall  die!"  — 


284        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"His  arms  shone  full  bright,  in  the  beacon's 
red  light; 
His  plume  it  was  scarlet  and  blue; 
On  his  shield  was  a  hound,  in  a  silver  leash 
bound, 
And  liis  crest  was  a  branch  of  the  yew.'* 

"Thou  liest,  thou  liest,  thou  little  foot-page, 

Loud  dost  thou  lie  to  me! 
For  that  Knight  is  cold,  and  low  laid  in  the 
mould, 

All  under  the  Eildon  Tree."  — 

"Yet  hear  but  my  word,  my  noble  Lord! 

For  I  heard  her  name  his  name; 
And  that  Lady  bright,  she  called  the  Knight 

Sir  Richard  of  Coldinghame."  — 

The  bold  Baron's  brow  then  changed,  I  trow. 

From  high  blood-red  to  pale  — 
"The  grave  is  deep  and  dark  —  and  the  corpse 
is  stiff  and  stark  — 

So  I  may  not  trust  thy  tale. 

"Where  fair  Tweed  flows  round  holy  Melrose, 

And  Eildon  slopes  to  the  plain, 
Full  three  nights  ago,  by  some  secret  foe, 

That  gay  gallant  was  slain. 


TIIE  EYE  OF  ST.  JOHN  285 

"The  varying  light  deceived  thy  sight, 
And  the  wild  winds  drowned  the  name; 

For  the  Dryburgh  bells  ring,  and  the  white  monks 
do  sing, 
For  Sir  Richard  of  Coldinghame ! " 

PART  II 

He  passed  the  court-gate,  and  he  oped  the  tower- 
grate. 
And  he  momited  the  narrow  stair. 
To  the  bartizan  seat,  where,  with  maids  that  on 
her  wait, 
He  found  his  Lady  fair. 

That  Lady  sat  in  mournful  mood; 

Looked  over  hill  and  vale; 
Over  Tweed's  fair  flood,  and  Mertoun*s  wood. 

And  all  down  Teviotdale. 

**Now  hail,  now  hail,  thou  Lady  bright!"  — 

"Now  hail,  thou  Baron  true! 
What  news,  what  news,  from  Ancram  fight? 

What  news  from  the  bold  Buccleuch?"  — 

"The  Ancram  Moor  is  red  with  gore. 

For  many  a  Southern  fell ; 
And  Buccleuch  has  charged  us,  evermore, 

To  watch  our  beacons  well."  — 


286        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  Lady  blushed  red,  but  nothing  she  said: 

Nor  added  the  Baron  a  word: 
Then  she  stepped  down  the  stair  to  her  chamber 
fair, 

And  so  did  her  moody  lord. . 

In  sleep  the  Lady  mourned,  and  the  Baron  tossed 
and  turned. 
And  oft  to  himself  he  said,  — 
"The  worms  around  him  creep,  and  his  bloody 
grave  is  deep, 
It  cannot  give  up  the  dead!"  — 

PART  III 

It  was  near  the  ringing  of  matin-bell, 

The  night  was  wellnigh  done. 
When  a  heavy  sleep  on  that  Baron  fell, 

On  the  Eve  of  good  St.  John. 

The  Lady  looked  through  the  chamber  fair, 

By  the  light  of  a  dying  flame; 
And  she  was  aware  of  a  KJnight  stood  there  — 

Sir  Richard  of  Coldinghame! 

"Alas!  away,  away!"  she  cried, 

"For  the  holy  Virgin's  sake!"  — 
"Lady,  I  know  who  sleeps  by  thy  side; 

But,  Lady,  he  will  not  awake. 


THE  E\^  OF  ST.  JOHN  287 

*'By  Eiltlon  Tree,  for  long  nights  three, 

In  bloody  grave  have  I  lain; 
The  mass  and  the  death-prayer  are  said  for  me,  , 

But,  Lady,  they  are  said  in  vain. 

**By  the  Baron's  brand,  near  Tweed's  fair  strand, 

Most  foully  slain,  I  fell; 
And  my  restless  sprite  on  the  beacon's  height. 

For  a  space  is  doomed  to  dwell.  * 

"At  our  trysting-place,  for  a  certain  space, 

I  must  wander  to  and  fro; 
But  I  had  not  had  power  to  come  to  thy  bower, 

Hadst  thou  not  conjured  me  so."  — 

Love  mastered  fear  —  her  brow  she  crossed ; 

"How,  Richard,  hast  thou  sped? 
And  art  thou  saved,  or  art  thou  lost?  " 

The  vision  shook  his  head ! 

"Who  spilleth  life,  shall  forfeit  life; 

So  bid  thy  lord  believe: 
That  lawless  love  is  guilt  above. 

This  awful  sign  receive." 

He  laid  his  left  palm  on  an  oaken  beam: 

His  right  upon  her  hand; 
The  Lady  shrunk,  and  fainting  sunk, 

For  it  scorched  like  a  fiery  brand. 


288        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  sable  score,  of  fingers  four. 
Remains  on  that  board  impressed; 

And  for  evermore  that  Lady  wore 
A  covering  on  her  wrist. 

There  is  a  nun  in  Dryburgh  bower. 

Ne'er  looks  upon  the  sun; 
There  is  a  monk  in  Melrose  tower, 

He  speaketh  word  to  none.    ^ 

That  nun,  who  ne'er  beholds  the  day. 
That  monk,  who  speaks  to  none  — 

That  nun  was  Smaylho'me's  Lady  gay. 
That  monk  the  bold  Baron. 

Sir  Walter  Scott 


ALL  UNDER  TIIE  GREENWOOD  TREE 


THE  BIRTH  O'  ROBIN  HOOD 

And  mony  ane  sings  o'  grass,  o  grass. 
And  mony  ane  sings  o'  corn  ; 

And  mony  ane  sings  o'  Rohin  Hood, 
Kens  little  whare  he  was  born. 

It  wasna  in  the  ha\  the  ha', 

Nor  in  the  painted  bower  ; 
But  it  was  in  the  gude  green  wood, 

Amang  the  lily  flower. 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  LITTLE  JOHN 

When  Robin  Hood  was  about  twenty  years  old, 

With  a  hey  down  down  and  a  down 
He  happend  to  meet  Little  John, 
A  jolly  brisk  blade,  right  fit  for  the  trade, 
For  he  was  a  lusty  young  man. 

Tho  he  was  calld  Little,  his  limbs  they  were  large. 
And  his  stature  was  seven  foot  high ; 

Where-ever  he  came,  they  quak'd  at  his  name, 
For  soon  he  would  make  them  to  fly. 

How  they  came  acquainted,  I'll  tell  you  in  brief. 

If  you  will  but  listen  a  while; 
For  this  very  jest,  amongst  all  the  rest, 

I  think  it  may  cause  you  to  smile. 

Bold  Robin  Hood  said  to  his  jolly  bowmen, 
"Pray  tarry  you  here  in  this  grove; 

And  see  that  you  all  observe  well  my  call, 
While  thorough  the  forest  I  rove. 

"We  have  had  no  sport  for  these  fourteen  long 
days, 

Therefore  now  abroad  will  I  go; 
Now  should  I  be  beat,  and  cannot  retreat. 

My  horn  I  will  presently  blow. 


292        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Then  did  he  shake  hands  with  his  merry  men  all, 
And  bid  them  at  present  good  b'w'ye; 

Then,  as  near  a  brook  his  journey  he  took, 
A  stranger  he  chancd  to  espy. 

They  happend  to  meet  on  a  long  narrow  bridge, 
And  neither  of  them  would  give  way; 

Quoth  bold  Robin  Hood,  and  sturdily  stood, 
"I'll  show  you  right  Nottingham  play." 

With  that  from  his  quiver  an  arrow  he  drew, 

A  broad  arrow  with  a  goose- wing: 
The  stranger  reply 'd,  "I'll  liquor  thy  hide. 

If  thou  off  erst  to  touch  the  string." 

Quoth  bold  Robin  Hood,  "Thou  dost  prate  like 
an  ass, 

For  were  I  to  bend  but  my  bow, 
I  could  send  a  dart  quite  thro  thy  proud  heart. 

Before  thou  couldst  strike  me  one  blow." 

"Thou  talkst  like  a  coward,"  the  stranger  reply 'd; 

"Well  armd  with  a  long  bow  you  stand, 
To  shoot  at  my  breast,  while  I,  I  protest. 

Have  nought  but  a  staff  in  my  hand." 

"The  name  of  a  coward,"  quoth  Robin,  "I  scorn, 
Wherefore  my  long  bow  I  '11  lay  by ; 

And  now,  for  thy  sake,  a  staff  will  I  take. 
The  truth  of  thy  manhood  to  try." 


I 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  LITTLE  JOHN    293 

Then  Robin  Hood  stept  to  a  thicket  of  trees, 
And  chose  him  a  staff  of  ground-oak; 

Now  this  being  done,  away  he  did  run 
To  the  stranger,  and  merrily  spoke: 

"Lo!  see  my  staff,  it  is  lusty  and  tough, 
Now  here  on  the  bridge  we  will  play; 

Whoever  falls  in,  the  other  shall  win 
The  battel,  and  so  we'll  away." 

"With  all  my  whole  heart,"  the  stranger  reply'd; 

*'  I  scorn  in  the  least  to  give  out;" 
This  said,  they  fell  to  't  without  more  dispute, 

And  their  staffs  they  did  flourish  about. 

And  first  Robin  he  gave  the  stranger  a  bang. 
So  hard  that  it  made  his  bones  ring: 

The  stranger  he  said,  "This  must  be  repaid, 
I  '11  give  you  as  good  as  you  bring. 

"So  long  as  I'm  able  to  handle  my  staff. 
To  die  in  your  debt,  friend,  I  scorn: " 

Then  to  it  each  goes,  and  followd  their  blows. 
As  if  they  had  been  threshing  of  corn. 

The  stranger  gave  Robin  a  crack  on  the  crown. 
Which  caused  the  blood  to  appear; 

Then  Robin,  enrag'd,  more  fiercely  engag'd. 
And  followd  his  blows  more  severe. 


294        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

So  thick  and  so  fast  did  lie  lay  it  on  him, 

With  a  passionate  fury  and  ire, 
At  every  stroke,  he  made  him  to  smoke. 

As  if  he  had  been  all  on  fire. 

O  then  into  fury  the  stranger  he  grew, 

And  gave  him  a  damnable  look, 
And  with  it  a  blow  that  laid  him  full  low. 

And  tumbld  him  into  the  brook. 

"I  prithee,  good  fellow,  O  where  art  thou  now?" 
The  stranger,  in  laughter,  he  cry'd; 

Quoth  bold  Robin  Hood,  "  Good  faith,  in  the  flood, 
And  floating  along  with  the  tide. 

*'  I  needs  must  acknowledge  thou  art  a  brave  soul; 

With  thee  I'll  no  longer  contend; 
For  needs  must  I  say,  thou  hast  got  the  day. 

Our  battel  shall  be  at  an  end." 

Then  unto  the  bank  he  did  presently  wade, 

And  pulld  himself  out  by  a  thorn; 
Which  done,  at  the  last,  he  blowd  a  loud  blast 

Straitway  on  his  fine  bugle-horn. 

The  eccho  of  which  through  the  vallies  did  fly. 
At  which  his  stout  bowmen  appeard, 

All  cloathed  in  green,  most  gay  to  be  seen; 
So  up  to  their  master  they  steerd. 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  LITTLE  JOHN    295 

"O  what's  the  matter?"  quoth  Wilh'am  Stutely; 

"Good  master,  you  are  wet  to  the  skin:" 
"No  matter,"  quoth  he;  "the  lad  which  you  see, 

In  fighting,  hath  tunibld  me  in." 

"He  shall  not  go  scot-free,"  the  others  reply'd; 

So  strait  they  were  seizing  him  there, 
To  duck  him  likewise;  but  Robin  Hood  cries, 

"He  is  a  stout  fellow,  forbear. 

"There's  no  one  shall  WTong  thee,  friend,  be  not 
afraid ; 

These  bowmen  upon  me  do  wait; 
There's  threescore  and  nine;  if  thou  wilt  be  mine. 

Thou  shalt  have  my  Hvery  strait. 

"And  other  accoutrements  fit  for  a  man; 

Speak  up,  jolly  blade,  never  fear; 
I  '11  teach  you  also  the  use  of  the  bow, 

To  shoot  at  the  fat  fallow-deer." 

"O  here  is  my  hand,"  the  stranger  reply'd, 
"I'll  serve  you  with  all  my  whole  heart; 

My  name  is  John  Little,  a  man  of  good  mettle; 
Nere  doubt  me,  for  I'll  play  my  part." 

"His  name  shall  be  alterd,"  quoth  WilHam  Stutely, 

"And  I  will  his  godfather  be; 
Prepare  then  a  feast,  and  none  of  the  least. 

For  w^e  will  be  merry,"  quoth  he. 


2SG        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

They  presently  fetchd  in  a  brace  of  fat  does, 
With  humming  strong  hquor  Hkewise; 

They  lovd  what  was  good;  so,  in  the  greenwood. 
This  pretty  sweet  babe  they  baptize. 

He  was,  I  must  tell  you,  but  seven  foot  high. 

And,  may  be,  an  ell  in  the  waste; 
A  pretty  sweet  lad;  much  feasting  they  had; 

Bold  Robin  the  christning  grac'd. 

With  all  his  bowmen,  which  stood  in  a  ring, 
And  were  of  the  Nottingham  breed; 

Brave  Stutely  comes  then,  with  seven  yeomen. 
And  did  in  this  manner  proceed. 

"This  infant  was  called  John  Little,"  quoth  he, 
"Which  name  shall  be  changed  anon; 

The  words  we  '11  transpose,  so  where-ever  he  goes, 
His  name  shall  be  calld  Little  John." 

They  all  with  a  shout  made  the  elements  ring. 

So  soon  as  the  office  was  ore; 
To  feasting  they  went,  with  true  merriment. 

And  tippld  strong  liquor  gillore. 

Then  Robin  he  took  the  pretty  sweet  babe. 
And  cloathd  him  from  top  to  the  toe 

In  garments  of  green,  most  gay  to  be  seen. 
And  gave  him  a  curious  long  bow. 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  CLORINDA     297 

"Thou  shalt  be  an  archer  as  well  as  the  best. 
And  range  in  the  greenwood  with  us; 

Where  we'll  not  want  gold  nor  silver,  behold, 
While  bishops  have  ought  in  their  purse. 

"We  live  here  like  squires,  or  lords  of  renown, 

Without  ere  a  foot  of  free  land; 
We  feast  on  good  cheer,  with  wine,  ale,  and  beer. 

And  evry  thing  at  our  command." 

Then  musick  and  dancing  did  finish  the  day; 

At  length,  when  the  sun  waxed  low. 
Then  all  the  whole  train  the  grove  did  refrain, 

And  unto  their  caves  they  did  go. 

And  so  ever  after,  as  long  as  he  livd, 

Altho  he  was  proper  and  tall. 
Yet  nevertheless,  the  truth  to  express, 

Still  Little  John  they  did  him  call. 

ROBIN  HOOD  AND  CLORINDA 

When  Robin  Hood  came  into  merry  Sherwood, 

He  winded  his  bugle  so  clear; 
And  twice  five  and  twenty  good  yeomen  and  bold. 

Before  Robin  Hood  did  appear. 

"WTiere  are  your  companions  all?"  said  Robin 
Hood, 
"For  still  I  want  forty  and  three." 


298        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Then  said  a  bold  yeoman,  "Lo,  yonder  they 
stand, 
All  under  the  green-wood  tree." 

As  that  word  was  spoke,  Clorinda  came  by. 
The  queen  of  the  shepherds  was  she; 

And  her  gown  was  of  velvet  as  green  as  the  grass. 
And  her  buskin  did  reach  to  her  knee. 

Her  gait  it  was  graceful,  her  body  was  straight. 
And  her  countenance  free  from  pride; 

A  bow  in  her  hand,  and  quiver  and  arrows 
Hung  dangling  by  her  sweet  side. 

Her  eye-brows  were  black,  ay,  and  so  was  her 
hair. 

And  her  skin  was  as  smooth  as  glass; 
Her  visage  spoke  wisdom,  and  modesty  too; 

Sets  with  Robin  Hood  such  a  lass! 

Said  Robin  Hood,  "  Lady  fair,  whither  away? 

O  whither,  fair  lady,  away?" 
And  she  made  him  answer,  "To  kill  a  fat  buck; 

For  to-morrow  is  Titbury  day." 

Said  Robin  Hood,  "Lady  fair,  wander  with  me 

A  little  to  yonder  green  bower, 
There  set  down  to  rest  you,  and  you  shall  be  sure 

Of  a  brace  or  a  lease,  in  an  hour." 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  CLORINDA     299 

And  as  we  were  going  towards  the  green  bower. 
Two  hundred  good  bucks  we  espy'd; 

She  chose  out  the  fattest  that  was  in  the  herd. 
And  she  shot  him  through  side  and  side. 

•*By  the  faith  of  my  body,"  said  bold  Robin 
Hood, 
"I  never  saw  woman  like  thee; 
And  com'st  thou  from  east,  ay,  or  com'st  thou 
from  west, 
Thou  needst  not  beg  venison  of  me. 

"However,  along  to  my  bower  you  shall  go, 

And  taste  of  a  forrester's  meat: " 
And  when  we  come  thither  we  found  as  good 
cheer 

As  any  man  needs  for  to  eat. 

For  there  was  hot  venison,  and  warden  pies 
cold. 
Cream  clouted,  with  honey-combs  plenty; 
And  the  sarvitors  they  were,  besides  Little 
John, 
Good  yeomen  at  least  four  and  twenty. 

Clorinda  said,  "Tell  me  your  name,  gentle  sir:" 
And  he  said,  "  'T  is  bold  Robin  Hood: 

Squire  Gamwel  's  my  uncle,  but  all  my  delight 
Is  to  dwell  in  the  merry  Sherwood; 


300        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"For  't  is  a  fine  life,  and  't  is  void  of  all  strife." 

"So  't  is,  sir,"  Clorinda  reply 'd. 
"But  oh!"  said  bold  Robin,  "how  sweet  would 
it  be, 

If  Clorinda  would  be  my  bride!" 

She  blusht  at  the  motion ;  yet,  after  a  pause. 
Said,  "Yes,  sir,  and  with  all  my  heart." 

"Then  let  us  send  for  a  priest,"  said  Robin 
Hood, 
"And  be  married  before  we  do  part.' 


>» 


When  dinner  was  ended.  Sir  Roger,  the  parson 
Of  Dubbridge,  was  sent  for  in  haste: 

He  brought  his  mass-book,  and  he  bade  them  take 
hands. 
And  joyn'd  them  in  marriage  full  fast. 

And  then,  as  bold  Robin  Hood  and  his  sweet 
bride 

Went  hand  in  hand  to  the  green  bower, 
The  birds  sung  with  pleasure  in  merry  Sherwood, 

And  't  was  a  most  joyful  hour. 

And  when  Robin  came  in  the  sight  of  the  bower, 
"Where  are  my  yeomen.'^"  said  he: 

And   Little  John  answer'd,  "  Lo,   yonder  they 
stand. 
All  under  the  green-wood  tree." 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURILVY    301 

Then  a  garland  they  brought  her,  by  two  and  by 
two, 
And  plac'd  them  upon  the  bride's  head: 
The  music  struck  up,  and  we  all  fell  to  dance. 

So  the  bride  and  bridegroom  were  wed. 

{Condensed) 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURRAY 

PART  I 

Ettrick  Forest  is  a  fair  forest, 

In  it  grows  many  a  seemly  tree; 
There's  hart  and  hind,  and  dae  and  rae, 

And  of  a'  wild  beasts  great  plentie. 

There's  a  fair  Castle,  bigged  wi'  lime  and  stane; 

O  gin  it  stands  not  pleasantlie! 
In  the  fore  front  o'  that  Castle  fair, 

Twa  unicorns  are  bra'  to  see; 
There's  the  picture  of  a  Knight  and  a  Lady 
bright. 

And  the  green  hollin  abune  their  bree. 

There  an  Outlaw  keeps  five  hundred  men, 

He  keeps  a  royal  company; 
His  merry  men  a'  in  ae  livery  clad, 

O'  the  Lincoln  green  sae  gay  to  see; 
He  and  his  Lady  in  purple  clad, 

O  gin  they  live  not  royallie ! 


302        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Word  is  gane  to  our  noble  King, 

In  Edinburgh  where  that  he  lay. 
That  there  was  an  Outlaw  in  Ettrick  Forest, 

Counted  him  nought,  nor  a'  his  courtrie  gay. 

"I  make  a  vow,"  then  the  gude  King  said, 
"Unto  the  Man  that  dear  bought  me, 

I  'se  either  be  King  of  Ettrick  Forest, 

Or  King  of  Scotland  that  Outlaw  sail  be!'* 

Then  spake  the  Lord  hight  Hamilton, 

And  to  the  noble  King  said  he, 
**My  sovereign  Prince,  some  counsel  take, 

First  at  your  nobles,  syne  at  me. 

**I  rede  ye,  send  yon  braw  Outlaw  till, 
And  see  gif  your  man  come  will  he: 

Desire  him  come  and  be  your  man. 
And  hold  of  you  yon  forest  free. 

"Gif  he  refuses  to  do  that, 

We'll  conquer  baith  his  lands  and  he! 
Or  else  we'll  throw  his  Castle  down. 

And  mak'  a  widow  o'  his  gay  Ladye." 

The  King  then  called  a  gentleman, 

James  Boyd  (the  Earl  of  Arran's  brother  was 
he); 
When  James  he  came  before  the  King, 

He  kneeled  before  him  on  his  knee. 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURILVY    303 

''Welcome,  James  Boyd!"  said  our  noble  King, 
*'A  message  ye  maun  gang  for  me; 

Ye  maun  hie  to  Ettrick  Poorest, 
To  yon  Outlaw,  where  bideth  he. 

**Ask  him  of  whom  he  holds  his  lands. 

Or  man  wha  may  his  master  be. 
And  desire  him  come  and  be  my  man. 

And  hold  of  me  yon  forest  free. 

**To  Edinburgh  to  come  and  gang, 

His  safe  warrant  I  sail  gie; 
And  gif  he  refuses  to  do  that, 

W^e'll  conquer  baith  his  lands  and  he. 

*'Thou  mayst  vow  I'll  cast  his  Castle  down, 
And  mak'  a  widow  o'  his  gay  Ladye; 

I  '11  hang  his  merrymen,  pair  by  pair, 
In  ony  frith  where  I  may  them  see." 

PART  II 

James  Boyd  took  his  leave  o'  the  noble  King, 

To  Ettrick  Forest  fair  cam'  he; 
Down  Birkendale  Brae  when  that  he  cam'. 

He  saw  the  fair  forest  wi'  his  ee. 

Baith  dae  and  rae,  and  hart  and  hind, 
And  of  a'  wild  beasts  great  plentie; 

He  heard  the  bows  that  boldly  ring, 
And  arrows  whidderan'  him  near  by. 


304        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Of  that  great  Castle  he  got  a  sight; 

The  Hke  he  ne'er  saw  wi'  his  ee! 
On  the  fore  front  o'  that  Castle  fair, 

Twa  unicorns  were  bra'  to  see; 
The  picture  of  a  Knight,  and  Lady  bright, 

And  the  green  hollin  abune  their  bree. 

Thereat  he  spyed  five  hundred  men, 
Shooting  with  bows  on  Newark  Lee; 

They  were  a'  in  ae  livery  clad, 

O'  the  Lincoln  green  sae  gay  to  see. 

His  men  were  a'  clad  in  the  green, 
The  Knight  was  armed  capapie, 

With  a  bended  bow,  on  a  milk-white  steed; 
And  I  wot  they  ranked  right  bonnihe. 

Thereby  Boyd  kend  he  was  master  man. 
And  served  him  in  his  ain  degree, 

**God  mote  thee  save,  brave  Outlaw  Murray! 
Thy  Ladye,  and  all  thy  chivalrie!" 

"Marry,  thou's  welcome,  gentleman. 

Some  King's  messenger  thou  seems  to  be." 

*'The  King  of  Scotland  sent  me  here. 
And,  gude  Outlaw,  I  am  sent  to  thee; 

I  wad  wot  of  whom  ye  hold  your  lands, 
Or  man  wha  may  thy  master  be?" 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURILVY    305 

"Tliir  lands  are  mine,"  the  Outlaw  said; 

*'I  ken  nae  King  in  Christen  tie; 
Frae  Soudron  I  tliis  forest  wan, 

When  the  King  nor  his  Knights  were  not  to 
see. 

"He  desires  you'll  come  to  Edinburgh, 
And  hauld  of  him  tliis  forest  free; 

And,  gif  ye  refuse  to  do  this  thing. 

He'll  conquer  baith  thy  lands  and  thee. 

He  hath  vowed  to  cast  thy  Castle  down, 
And  mak'  a  widow  o'  thy  gay  Ladye; 

**He'll  hang  thy  merrymen,  pair  by  pair, 
In  ony  frith  where  he  may  them  find." 

**Ay,  by  my  troth!"  the  Outlaw  said, 
"Than  w^auld  I  think  me  far  behind. 

"Ere  the  King  my  fair  country  get, 

This  land  that's  nativest  to  me, 
Mony  o'  his  nobles  sail  be  cauld; 

Their  ladies  sail  be  right  wearie.'* 

Then  spak'  his  Lady,  fair  of  face: 

She  said,  "'T  were  without  consent  of  me. 

That  an  outlaw  suld  come  before  a  King; 
I  am  right  rad  of  treasonrie. 

Bid  him  be  gude  to  his  lords  at  hame, 
For  Edinburgh  my  Lord  sail  never  see." 


306        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

PART  III 

James  Boyd  took  his  leave  o'  the  Outlaw  keen, 

To  Edinburgh  boun'  is  he; 
When  James  he  cam'  before  the  King, 

He  kneeled  lowly  on  his  knee. 

"Welcome,  James  Boyd!"  said  our  noble  King, 
"What  forest  is  Ettrick  Forest  free?" 

"Ettrick  Forest  is  the  fairest  forest 
That  ever  man  saw  wi'  his  ee. 

"There's  the  dae,  the  rae,  the  hart,  the  hind. 
And  of  a'  wild  beasts  great  plentie; 

There's  a  pretty  Castle  of  lime  and  stane. 
Oh!  gin  it  stands  not  pleasantHe! 

"There's  in  the  fore  front  o'  that  Castle 

Twa  unicorns,  sae  bra'  to  see; 
There's  the  picture  of  a  Knight,  and  a  Lady 
bright 

Wi'  the  green  hollin  abune  their  bree. 

"There  the  Outlaw  keeps  five  hundred  men, 

He  keeps  a  royal  companie; 
His  merrymen  in  ae  livery  clad, 

O'  the  Lincoln  green  sae  gay  to  see: 
He  and  his  Lady  in  purple  clad; 

Oh!  gin  they  live  right  royallie! 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURRAY    307 

"He  says,  yon  forest  is  his  awn; 
He  wan  it  frae  the  Southronie; 
Sae  as  he  wan  it,  sae  will  he  keep  it, 
-   Contrair  all  Kings  in  Christentie." 

*'Gar  warn  me  Perthshire,  and  Angus  baith, 
Fife,  up  and  down,  and  Lothians  tliree, 

And  graith  my  horse!"  said  our  noble  King, 
"For  to  Ettrick  Forest  hie  will  I  me." 

Then  w^ord  is  gane  the  Outlaw  till. 
In  Ettrick  Forest,  w^here  dwellcth  he, 

That  the  King  was  coming  to  his  countrie, 
To  conquer  baith  his  lands  and  he. 

*'I  mak'  a  vow,"  the  Outlaw  said, 

"I  mak'  a  vow,  and  that  truHe: 
Were  there  but  three  men  to  tak'  my  part, 

Yon  King's  coming  full  dear  suld  be ! " 

Then  messengers  he  called  forth, 
And  bade  them  hie  them  speedilye: 

*'Ane  of  ye  gae  to  Halliday, 

The  Laird  of  the  Corehead  is  he. 

"He  certain  is  my  sister's  son; 

Bid  him  come  quick  and  succor  me; 
The  King  comes  on  for  Ettrick  Forest, 

And  landless  men  we  a'  will  be." 


308        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"What  news?  what  news?"  said  Halliday, 
"Man,  frae  thy  master  unto  me?" 

"Not  as  ye  would,  seeking  your  aid; 
The  King's  his  mortal  enemie." 

"Ay,  by  my  troth!"  said  HaUiday, 
"Even  for  that  it  repenteth  me; 

For  gif  he  lose  fair  Ettrick  Forest, 
He'll  tak'  fair  Moffatdale  frae  me. 

"I'll  meet  him  wi'  five  hundred  men, 
And  surely  mair,  if  mae  may  be; 

And  before  he  gets  the  forest  fair, 
We  a'  will  die  on  Newark  Lee!", 

The  Outlaw  called  a  messenger. 
And  bid  him  hie  him  speedilye 

To  Andrew  Murray  of  Cockpool: 
"That  man's  a  dear  cousin  to  me; 

Desire  him  come  and  mak'  me  aid 
With  a'  the  power  that  he  may  be." 

"It  stands  me  hard,"  Andrew  Murray  said, 
"Judge  gif  it  stand  na  hard  wi'  me; 

To  enter  against  a  King  wi'  crown. 
And  set  my  lands  in  jeopardie! 

Yet,  if  I  come  not  on  the  day, 
Surely  at  night  he  sail  me  see." 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURRAY    309 

To  Sir  James  Murray  of  Traquair, 

A  message  came  right  speedilyc: 
"What  news?  what  news?"  James  Murray  said, 

"Man,  frae  thy  master  unto  me?" 

"What  needs  I  tell?  for  weel  ye  ken 

The  King's  his  mortal  enemie; 
And  now  he  is  coming  to  Ettrick  Forest, 

And  landless  men  ye  a'  will  be." 

"And,  by  my  troth,"  James  Murray  said, 
"Wi'  that  Outlaw  will  I  live  and  dee; 

The  King  has  gifted  my  lands  lang  syne,  — 
It  cannot  be  nae  warse  wi'  me." 

PART  IV 

The  King  was  coming  thro'  Caddon  Ford, 
And  full  five  thousand  men  was  he; 

They  saw  the  dark  forest  them  before. 
They  thought  it  awsome  for  to  see. 

Then  spak'  the  Lord  hight  Hamilton, 

And  to  the  noble  King  said  he, 
"My  sovereign  Liege,  some  counsel  tak', 

First  at  your  nobles,  syne  at  me. 

"Desire  him  meet  thee  at  Permanscore, 

And  bring  four  in  his  companie; 
Five  Earls  sail  gang  yoursell  before, 

Gude  cause  that  you  suld  honoured  be. 


310        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"And,  gif  he  refuses  to  do  that, 

We'll  conquer  baith  his  lands  and  he; 

There  sail  never  a  Murray,  after  him, 
Hold  land  in  Ettrick  Forest  free." 

The  Ejng  then  called  a  gentleman, 
Royal  banner-bearer  there  was  he, 

James  Hoppringle  of  Torsonse  by  name; 
He  cam'  and  kneeled  upon  his  knee. 

"Welcome,  James  Pringle  of  Torsonse! 

A  message  ye  maun  gang  for  me: 
Ye  maun  gae  to  yon  Outlaw  Murray, 

Surely  where  boldly  bideth  he. 

"Bid  him  meet  me  at  Permanscore, 
And  bring  four  in  his  companie; 

Five  Earls  sail  come  wi'  mysell, 
Gude  reason  I  suld  honoured  be. 

"And  gif  he  refuses  to  do  that. 
Bid  him  look  for  nae  good  o'  me; 

There  sail  never  a  Murray,  after  him. 
Have  land  in  Ettrick  Forest  free.'* 

James  cam'  before  the  Outlaw  keen, 
And  served  him  in  his  ain  degree: 

"Welcome,  James  Pringle  of  Torsonse! 
What  message  frae  the  King  to  me?" 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURRAY    311 

"lie  bids  ye  meet  him  at  Permanscore, 
And  bring  four  in  your  company; 

Five  Earls  sail  gang  liimsell  before, 
Nae  mair  in  number  will  he  be. 

"And  gif  you  refuse  to  do  that, 
(I  freely  here  upgive  wi'  thee,) 

He'll  cast  yon  bonny  Castle  down, 
And  mak'  a  widow  o'  that  gay  Ladye. 

"He'll  loose  yon  bloodhound  Borderers, 
Wi'  fire  and  sword  to  follow  thee; 

There  will  never  a  Murray,  after  thysell. 
Have  land  in  Ettrick  Forest  free," 

"  It  stands  me  hard,"  the  Outlaw  said, 
"Judge  gif  it  stands  na  hard  wi'  me: 

What  reck  o'  the  losing  of  mysell. 
But  a'  my  ofiFspring  after  me! 

"Auld  HalHday,  young  Halliday, 
Ye  sail  be  twa  to  gang  w^i'  me; 

Andrew  Murray  and  Sir  James  Murray, 
We'll  be  nae  mae  in  companie." 

When  that  they  cam'  before  the  King, 
They  fell  before  him  on  their  knee: 

"Grant  mercy,  mercy,  noble  King! 
E'en  for  His  sake  that  dyed  on  tree." 


312         STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

*' Sicken  like  mercy  sail  ye  have, 

On  gallows  ye  sail  hangit  be!" 
"Over  God's  forbode,"  quoth  the  Outlaw  then, 

"I  hope  your  Grace  will  better  be! 
Else,  ere  you  come  to  Edinburgh  port, 

I  trow  thin  guarded  sail  ye  be. 

"Thir  lands  of  Ettrick  Forest  fair, 

I  wan  them  from  the  enemie; 
Like  as  I  wan  them,  sae  will  I  keep  them, 

Contrair  a'  Kings  in  Christentie." 

All  the  nobles  the  King  about. 
Said  pity  it  were  to  see  him  dee. 

"Yet  grant  me  mercy,  sovereign  Prince, 
Extend  your  favour  unto  me! 

"I'll  give  thee  the  keys  of  my  Castle, 
Wi'  the  blessing  o'  my  gay  Ladye, 

Gin  thou 'It  make  me  sheriff  of  this  forest. 
And  a'  my  offspring  after  me." 

"Wilt  thou  give  me  the  keys  of  thy  Castle, 
'    Wi'  the  blessing  of  thy  gay  Ladye? 
I'se  make  thee  sheriff  of  Ettrick  Forest, 

Surely  while  upward  grows  the  tree; 
If  you  be  not  traitor  to  the  King, 

Forfaulted  sail  thou  never  be." 

"But,  Prince,  what  sail  come  o'  my  men? 
When  I  gae  back,  traitor  they  '11  ca'  me. 


SONG  OF  THE  OUTLAW  MURRAY    313 

I  had  rather  lose  my  Hfe  and  land, 
Ere  my  merrymen  rebuked  me." 

"Will  your  merrymen  amend  their  lives, 
And  a'  their  pardons  I  grant  thee? 

Now,  name  thy  lands  where'er  they  lie, 
And  here  I  render  them  to  thee." 

"Fair  Philiphaugh  is  mine  by  right. 
And  Lewinshope  still  mine  shall  be; 

Newark,  Foulshiells,  and  Tinnies  baith. 
My  bow  and  arrow  purchased  me. 

"And  I  have  native  steads  to  me. 
The  Newark  Lee  and  Hanginshaw; 

I  have  mony  steads  in  Ettrick  Forest, 
But  them  by  name  I  dinna  knaw." 

The  keys  of  the  Castle  he  gave  the  King, 
Wi'  the  blessing  o'  his  fair  Ladye; 

He  was  made  sheriff  of  Ettrick  Forest, 
Surely  while  upward  grows  the  tree; 

And  if  he  was  na  traitor  to  the  King, 
Forfaulted  he  suld  never  be. 

Wha  ever  heard,  in  ony  times. 

Sicken  an  outlaw  in  his  degree 
Sic  favour  get  before  a  King, 

As  did  Outlaw  Murray  of  the  forest  free? 

Englished  by  Wiiliam  Allingham 


314        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 
VALENTINE  AND  URSINE 

PART  I 

When  Flora  'gins  to  deck  the  fields 
With  colours  fresh  and  fine, 

Then  holy  clerks  their  matins  sing 
To  good  Saint  Valentine ! 

The  King  of  France  that  morning  fair 

He  would  a-hunting  ride : 
To  Artois  forest  prancing  forth 

In  all  his  princely  pride. 

To  grace  his  sports  a  courtly  train 

Of  gallant  peers  attend; 
And  with  their  loud  and  cheerful  cries 

The  hills  and  valleys  rend. 

Through  the  deep  forest  swift  they  pass, 
Through  woods  and  thickets  wild; 

When  down  within  a  lonely  dell 
They  found  a  new-born  child; 

All  in  a  scarlet  kercher  laid 

Of  silk  so  fine  and  thin; 
A  golden  mantle  wrapt  him  round, 

Pinned  with  a  silver  pin. 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINT:         315 

The  sudden  sight  surprised  them  all; 

The  courtiers  gathered  round; 
They  look,  they  call,  the  mother  seek; 

No  mother  could  be  found. 

At  length  the  King  himself  drew  near. 

And  as  he  gazing  stands, 
The  pretty  babe  looked  up  and  smiled. 

And  stretched  his  Httle  hands. 

"Now,  by  the  rood,"  King  Pepin  says, 

"This  child  is  passing  fair; 
I  wot  he  is  of  gentle  blood; 

Perhaps  some  Prince's  heir. 

"Go  bear  him  home  unto  my  Court 

With  all  the  care  ye  may: 
Let  him  be  christened  Valentine, 

Li  honour  of  this  day. 

"And  look  me  out  some  cunning  nurse; 

Well  nurtured  let  liim  be; 
Nor  aught  be  wanting  that  becomes 

A  bairn  of  high  degree." 

They  looked  him  out  a  cunning  nurse. 

And  nurtured  well  was  he; 
Nor  aught  was  wanting  that  became 

A  bairn  of  high  degree. 


316        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

PART  II 

Thus  grew  the  little  Valentine, 

Beloved  of  King  and  peers; 
And  showed  in  all  he  spake  or  did 

A  wit  beyond  his  years. 

But  chief  in  gallant  feats  of  arms 

He  did  himself  advance, 
That  ere  he  grew  to  man's  estate 

He  had  no  peer  in  France. 

And  now  the  early  down  began 

To  shade  his  youthful  chin; 
When  Valentine  was  dubbed  a  Knight, 

That  he  might  glory  win. 

*'A  boon,  a  boon,  my  gracious  Liege, 

I  beg  a  boon  of  thee ! 
The  first  adventure  that  befalls 

May  be  reserved  for  me." 

*'The  first  adventure  shall  be  thine;" 

The  King  did  smiling  say. 
Nor  many  days,  when  lo !  there  came 

Three  palmers  clad  in  gray. 

"Help,  gracious  Lord,"  they  weeping  said; 

And  knelt,  as  it  was  meet; 
"From  Artois  forest  we  be  come. 

With  weak  and  weary  feet. 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINE         317 

"Within  those  deep  and  dreary  woods 

There  wends  a  savage  boy; 
Whose  fierce  and  mortal  rage  doth  yield 

Thy  subjects  dire  annoy.  , 

*"Mong  ruthless  bears  he  sure  was  bred; 

He  lurks  within  their  den: 
With  bear?  he  lives;  with  bears  he  feeds, 

And  drinks  the  blood  of  men. 

**To  more  than  savage  strength  he  joins 

A  more  than  human  skill; 
For  arms,  nor  cunning  may  sujQBce 

His  cruel  rage  to  still." 

Up  then  rose  Sir  Valentine 

And  claimed  that  arduous  deed. 

*'Go  forth  and  conquer,"  said  the  King, 
"And  great  shall  be  thy  meed." 

Well  mounted  on  a  milk-white  steed, 

His  armour  white  as  snow; 
As  well  beseemed  a  virgin  Knight, 

Who  ne'er  had  fought  a  foe, 

To  Artois  forest  he  repairs 

With  all  the  haste  he  may; 
And  soon  he  spies  the  savage  youth 

A-rending  of  his  prey. 


318        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

His  unkempt  hair  all  matted  hung 
His  shaggy  shoulders  round; 

His  eager  eye  all  fiery  glowed; 
His  face  with  fury  frowned. 

Like  eagles'  talons  grew  his  nails; 

His  limbs  were  thick  and  strong; 
And  dreadful  was  the  knotted  oak 

He  bare  with  him  along. 

Soon  as  Sir  Valentine  approached, 
He  starts  with  sudden  spring; 

And  yelling  forth  a  hideous  howl, 
He  made  the  forests  ring. 

As  when  a  tiger  fierce  and  fell 
Hath  spied  a  passing  roe, 

And  leaps  at  once  upon  his  throat; 
So  sprung  the  savage  foe; 

So  lightly  leaped  with  furious  force 
The  gentle  Knight  to  seize; 

But  met  his  tall  uplifted  spear. 
Which  sunk  him  on  his  knees. 

A  second  stroke  so  stiff  and  stern 
Had  laid  the  savage  low; 

But  springing  up,  he  raised  his  club 
And  aimed  a  dreadful  blow. 


BUT  SPRINGING  UP,  HE  RAISED  HIS  CLUB 
AND  AIMED  A  DREADFUL  BLOW 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINE         319 

The  watchful  warrior  bent  his  head. 
And  shunned  the  coming  stroke; 

Upon  liis  taper  spear  it  fell, 
And  all  to  shivers  broke. 

Then  lighting  nimbly  from  his  steed. 

He  drew  his  burnisht  brand. 
The  savage  quick  as  lightning  flew 

To  wrest  it  from  his  hand. 

Three  times  he  grasped  the  silver  hilt; 

Three  times  he  felt  the  blade; 
Three  times  it  fell  with  furious  force; 

Three  ghastly  wounds  it  made. 

Now  with  redoubled  rage  he  roared; 

His  eye-ball  flashed  with  fire; 
Each  hairy  limb  with  fury  shook; 

And  all  his  heart  was  ire. 

Then  closing  fast  with  furious  gripe 
He  clasped  the  champion  round. 

And  with  a  strong  and  sudden  twist 
He  laid  him  on  the  ground. 

But  soon  the  Knight,  with  active  spring, 

O'erturned  liis  hairy  foe; 
And  now  between  their  sturdy  fists 

Past  many  a  bruising  blow. 


320        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

They  rolled  and  grappled  on  the  ground, 
And  there  they  struggled  long: 

Skillful  and  active  was  the  Knight; 
The  savage  he  was  strong. 

But  brutal  force  and  savage  strength 
To  art  and  skill  must  yield: 

Sir  Valentine  at  length  prevailed, 
And  won  the  well-fought  field. 

Then  binding  straight  his  conquered  foe 

Fast  with  an  iron  chain, 
He  ties  him  to  his  horse's  tail. 

And  leads  him  o'er  the  plain. 

To  Court  his  hairy  captive  soon 

Sir  Valentine  doth  bring; 
And  kneeling  down  upon  his  knee, 

Presents  him  to  the  King. 

With  loss  of  blood  and  loss  of  strength 

The  savage  tamer  grew; 
And  to  Sir  Valentine  became 

A  servant,  tried  and  true. 

And  'cause  with  bears  he  erst  was  bred, 

Ursine  they  call  his  name; 
A  name  which  unto  future  times 

The  Muses  shall  proclaim. 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINE         321 

PART  III 

In  high  renown  with  Prince  and  peer 

Now  Hved  Sir  Valentine; 
Ilis  high  renown  with  Prince  and  peer 

Made  envious  hearts  repine. 

It  chanced  the  King  upon  a  day 

Prepared  a  sumptuous  feast; 
And  there  came  lords  and  dainty  dames, 

And  many  a  noble  guest. 

Amid  their  cups  that  freely  flowed. 

Their  revelry  and  mirth, 
A  youthful  Knight  taxed  Valentine 

Of  base  and  doubtful  birth. 

The  foul  reproach,  so  grossly  urged. 
His  generous  heart  did  wound; 

And  strait  he  vowed  he  ne'er  would  rest 
Till  he  his  parents  found. 

Then  bidding  King  and  peers  adieu. 

Early  one  summer's  day, 
With  faithful  Ursine  by  his  side. 

From  Court  he  took  his  way. 

O'er  hill  and  valley,  moss  and  moor. 

For  many  a  day  they  pass; 
At  length,  upon  a  moated  lake. 

They  found  a  bridge  of  brass. 


822        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Beyond  it  rose  a  Castle  fair, 

Y-built  of  marble-stone; 
The  battlements  were  gilt  with  gold. 

And  glittered  in  the  sun. 

Beneath  the  bridge,  with  strange  device, 
A  hundred  bells  were  hung; 

That  man,  nor  beast,  might  pass  thereon 
But  strait  their  larum  rung. 

This  quickly  found  the  youthful  pair, 

Who  boldly  crossing  o'er. 
The  jangling  sound  bedeafed  their  ears, 

And  rung  from  shore  to  shore. 

Quick  at  the  sound  the  castle-gates 
Unlocked  and  opened  wide. 

And  strait  a  Giant  huge  and  grim 
Stalked  forth  with  stately  pride. 


"Now  yield  you,  caitiffs,  to  my  will!" 

He  cried  with  hideous  roar; 
"Or  else  the  wolves  shall  eat  your  flesh, 

And  ravens  drink  your  gore." 

"Vain  boaster,"  said  the  youthful  Knight, 
"I  scorn  thy  threats  and  thee; 

I  trust  to  force  thy  brazen  gates. 
And  set  thy  captives  free." 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINE         323 

Then  putting  spurs  unto  his  steed, 

He  aimed  a  dreadful  thrust; 
The  spear  against  the  Giant  glanced 

And  caused  the  blood  to  burst. 

Mad  and  outrageous  with  the  pain, 

He  whirled  his  mace  of  steel; 
The  very  wind  of  such  a  blow 

Had  made  the  champion  reel. 

It  haply  missed;  and  now  the  Knight 
His  glittering  sword  displayed, 

And  riding  round  with  whirlwind  speed 
Oft  made  him  feel  the  blade. 

As  when  a  large  and  monstrous  oak 

Unceasing  axes  hew, 
So  fast  around  the  Giant's  limbs 

The  blows  quick-darting  flew. 

As  when  the  boughs  with  hideous  fall 
Some  hapless  woodman  crush, 

With  such  a  force  the  enormous  foe 
Did  on  the  champion  rush. 

A  fearful  blow,  alas!  there  came; 

Both  horse  and  Knight  it  took. 
And  laid  them  senseless  in  the  dust; 

So  fatal  was  the  stroke. 


324        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Then  smiling  forth  a  hideous  grin. 

The  Giant  strides  in  haste, 
And,  stooping,  aims  a  second  stroke: 

"Now  caitiff  breathe  thy  last!" 

But  ere  it  fell,  two  thundering  blows 

Upon  his  skull  descend; 
From  Ursine's  knotty  club  they  came. 

Who  ran  to  save  his  friend. 

Down  sunk  the  Giant  gaping  wide. 

And  rolling  liis  grim  eyes; 
The  hairy  youth  repeats  his  blows; 

He  gasps,  he  groans,  he  dies. 

PART  IV 

Quickly  Sir  Valentine  revived 

With  Ursine's  timely  care; 
And  now  to  search  the  castle  walls 

The  venturous  youths  repair. 

The  blood  and  bones  of  murdered  Knights 
They  found  where'er  they  came; 

At  length  within  a  lonely  cell 
They  saw  a  mournful  dame. 

Her  gentle  eyes  were  dimmed  with  tears; 

Her  cheeks  were  pale  with  woe; 
And  long  Sir  Valentine  besought 

Her  doleful  tale  to  know. 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINE         325 

"Alas!  young  Knight,"  she  weeping  said, 

"Condole  my  wretched  fate; 
A  childless  mother  here  you  see; 

A  wife  without  a  mate. 

"These  twenty  winters  here  forlorn 

I've  drawn  my  hated  breath; 
Sole  witness  of  a  monster's  crimes, 

And  wishing  aye  for  death. 

"  Kjiow,  I  am  sister  of  a  King, 

And  in  my  early  years 
Was  married  to  a  mighty  Prince, 

The  fairest  of  his  peers. 

-"  With  him  I  sweetly  lived  in  love 

A  twelvemonth  and  a  day; 
WTien,  lo!  a  foul  and  treacherous  priest 
Y-wrought  our  loves'  decay. 

"  With  treason,  villainy,  and  wrong, 

My  goodness  he  repayed; 
With  jealous  doubts  he  filled  my  Lord, 

And  me  to  woe  betraj'ed; 

"  But,  'cause  I  then  was  ill,  mj-  Lord 

At  length  my  life  he  spared; 
But  bade  me  instant  quit  the  realm, 

One  trusty  Knight  my  guard. 


326        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

'*  Forth  on  my  journey  I  depart, 
Oppressed  with  grief  and  woe, 

And  tow'rds  my  brother's  distant  Court, 
With  breaking  heart,  I  go. 

"  Long  time  thro'  sundry  foreign  lands 

We  slowly  pace  forlorn, 
At  length  within  a  forest  wild, 

I  had  two  babies  born. 

"  The  eldest  fair  and  smooth,  as  snow 
That  tips  the  mountain  hoar; 

The  younger's  little  body  rough 
With  hairs  was  covered  o'er. 

"But  here  afresh  begin  my  woes: 

While  tender  care  I  took 
To  shield  my  eldest  from  the  cold, 

And  wrap  him  in  my  cloak, 

**  A  prowling  bear  burst  from  the  wood, 
And  seized  my  younger  son; 

Affection  lent  my  weakness  wings 
And  after  them  I  run. 

"  But  all  forewearied,  weak  and  spent, 

I  quickly  swooned  away; 
And  there  beneath  the  greenwood  shade 

Long  time  I  lifeless  lay. 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINE         327 

*'  At  length  the  Knight  brought  me  relief, 

And  raised  me  from  the  ground; 
But  neither  of  my  pretty  babes 
^  Could  ever  more  be  found. 

"And,  while  in  search  we  wandered  far, 

We  met  that  Giant  grim, 
Who  ruthless  slew  my  trusty  Knight, 

And  bare  me  off  with  him. 

"But  charmed  by  Heaven,  or  else  my  griefs, 

He  offered  me  no  wrong; 
Save  that  within  these  lonely  walls 

I've  been  immured  so  long." 

"Now,  surely,"  said  the  youthful  Knight, 

"You  are  Lady  Belhsance, 
Wife  to  the  Grecian  Emperor; 

Your  brother 's  King  of  France. 

"  For  in  your  royal  brother's  Court 

Myself  my  breeding  had; 
WTiere  oft  the  story  of  your  woes 

Hath  made  my  bosom  sad. 

"  If  so,  know  your  accuser 's  dead. 

And  dying  owned  his  crime; 
And  long  your  Lord  hath  sought  you  out 

Thro'  every  foreign  clime. 


328        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"And  when  no  tidings  he  could  learn 

Of  his  much-wronged  wife. 
He  vowed  thenceforth  within  his  Court 

To  lead  a  hermit's  life." 

"Now  Heaven  is  kind!"  the  Lady  said; 

And  dropt  a  joyful  tear; 
"Shall  I  once  more  behold  my  Lord? 

That  Lord  I  love  so  dear?  " 

"But,  Madam,"  said  Sir  Valentine, 

And  knelt  upon  his  knee; 
"Know  you  the  cloak  that  wrapt  your  babe. 

If  you  the  same  should  see?" 

And  pulling  forth  the  cloth  of  gold 

In  which  himself  was  found. 
The  Lady  gave  a  sudden  shriek, 

And  fainted  on  the  ground. 

But  by  his  pious  care  revived. 

His  tale  she  heard  anon; 
And  soon  by  other  tokens  found 

He  was  indeed  her  son. 

"But  who's  this  hairy  youth?"  she  said; 

"He  much  resembles  thee; 
The  bear  devoured  my  younger  son. 

Or  sure  that  son  were  he." 


VALENTINE  AND  URSINE         329 

"Madam,  this  youth  with  bears  was  bred, 

And  reared  within  their  den. 
But  recollect  ye  any  mark 

To  know  your  son  again?" 

"Upon  his  little  side,"  quoth  she, 
"Was  stamped  a  bloody  rose." 

"Here,  Lady,  see  the  crimson  mark 
Upon  his  body  grows!" 

Then  clasping  both  her  new-found  sons, 
She  bathed  their  cheeks  with  tears; 

And  soon  towards  her  brother's  Court 
Her  joyful  course  she  steers. 

What  pen  can  paint  King  Pepin's  joy, 

His  sister  thus  restored! 
And  soon  a  messenger  was  sent 

To  cheer  her  drooping  Lord, 

"VMio  came  in  haste  with  all  his  peers, 

To  fetch  her  home  to  Greece; 
Where  many  happy  years  they  reigned 

In  perfect  love  and  peace. 

To  them  Sir  Ursine  did  succeed, 

And  long  the  sceptre  bare. 
Sir  Valentine  he  stayed  in  France, 

And  was  his  uncle's  heir. 

Attributed  in  part  to  Bishop  Percy 
{Done  into  modern  spelling) 


O'  PILGRIMAGE  AND  SOULS  SO  STRONG 


THE  PILGRIM 

What  Danger  is  the  Pilgrim  in? 

How  many  are  his  Foes? 
How  many  ways  there  are  to  Sin, 

No  living  Mortal  knows. 

Some  of  the  Ditch  shy  are,  yet  can 

Lie  tumbling  on  the  Myre, 
Some,  tho'  they  shun  the  Frying-Pan, 

Do  leap  into  the  Fire. 

John  Bunyan 


i 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE 

PART  I 

The  good  Lord  Douglas  paced  the  deck, 

And  oh,  liis  face  was  wan! 
Unhke  the  flush  it  used  to  wear 

When  in  the  battle-van.  — 

**Come  hither,  come  hither,  my  trusty  Knight, 

Sir  Simon  of  the  Lee; 
There  is  a  freit  lies  near  my  soul 

I  fain  would  tell  to  thee. 

*'Thou  know'st  the  words  King  Robert  spoke 

Upon  his  dying  day: 
How  he  bade  me  take  his  noble  Heart 

And  carry  it  far  away; 

**And  lay  it  in  the  holy  soil 

Where  once  the  Saviour  trod, 
Since  he  might  not  bear  the  blessed  Cross, 

Nor  strike  one  blow  for  God. 

"Last  night  as  in  my  bed  I  lay, 

I  dreamed  a  dreary  dream :  — 
Methought  I  saw  a  Pilgrim  stand 

Li  the  moonlight's  quivering  beam. 


334        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"His  robe  was  of  the  azure  dye. 
Snow-white  his  scattered  hairs. 

And  even  such  a  cross  he  bore 
As  good  Saint  Andrew  bears. 

"'Why  go  ye  forth,  Lord  James,'  he  said, 
*With  spear  and  belted  brand? 

Why  do  you  take  its  dearest  pledge 
From  this  our  Scottish  land? 

"'The  sultry  breeze  of  Galilee 

Creeps  through  its  groves  of  palm. 
The  olives  on  the  Holy  Mount 
-  Stand  ghttering  in  the  calm. 

"'But 't  is  not  there  that  Scotland's  Heart 

Shall  rest  by  God's  decree. 
Till  the  great  Angel  calls  the  dead 

To  rise  from  earth  and  sea! 

"'Lord  James  of  Douglas,  mark  my  rede! 

That  Heart  shall  pass  once  more 
Tn  fiery  fight  against  the  foe, 
V  As  it  was  wont  of  yore. 

"'And  it  shall  pass  beneath  the  Cross, 
And  save  King  Robert's  vow; 

But  other  hands  shall  bear  it  back. 
Not,  James  of  Douglas,  thou ! ' 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE      835 

"Now,  by  thy  knightly  faith,  I  pray. 

Sir  Simon  of  the  Lee  — 
For  truer  friend  had  never  man 

Than  thou  hast  been  to  me  — 

*'If  ne'er  upon  the  Holy  Land 

'T  is  mine  in  life  to  tread. 
Bear  thou  to  Scotland's  kindly  earth 

The  relics  of  her  dead." 

The  tear  was  in  Sir  Simon's  eye 
As  he  wrung  the  warrior's  hand  — 

"Betide  me  weal,  betide  me  woe, 
I'll  hold  by  thy  command. 

"But  if  in  battle-front,  Lord  James, 

'T  is  ours  once  more  to  ride. 
Nor  force  of  man,  nor  craft  of  fiend. 

Shall  cleave  me  from  thy  side!" 

PART  II 

And  aye  we  sailed  and  aye  we  sailed. 

Across  the  weary  sea, 
Until  one  morn  the  coast  of  Spain 

Rose  grimly  on  our  lee. 

And  as  we  rounded  to  the  port. 
Beneath  the  watch-tower's  wall. 

We  heard  the  clash  of  the  atabals. 
And  the  trumpet's  wavering  call. 


336        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

*'Why  sounds  yon  Eastern  music  here 

So  wantonly  and  long, 
And  whose  the  crowd  of  armed  men 

That  round  yon  standard  throng?" 

"The  Moors  have  come  from  Africa 

To  spoil  and  waste  and  slay. 
And  King  Alonzo  of  Castile 

Must  fight  with  them  to-day." 

*'Now  shame  it  were,"  cried  good  Lord  James, 

"Shall  never  be  said  of  me,  ] 

That  I  and  mine  have  turned  aside 
From  the  Cross  in  jeopardie ! 


"Have  down,  have  down,  my  merrymen  all 

Have  down  unto  the  plain; 
We'll  let  the  Scottish  lion  loose 

Within  the  fields  of  Spain!" 

"Now  welcome  to  me,  noble  Lord, 

Thou  and  thy  stalwart  power; 
Dear  is  the  sight  of  a  Christian  Knight, 

Who  comes  in  such  an  hour! 

"Is  it  for  bond  or  faith  you  come. 

Or  yet  for  golden  fee? 
Or  bring  ye  France's  lilies  here. 

Or  the  flower  of  Burgundie?" 


i 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE      337 

**God  greet  thee  well,  thou  valiant  King, 

Thee  and  thy  belted  peers  — 
Sir  James  of  Douglas  am  I  colled, 

And  these  are  Scottish  spears. 

**We  do  not  fight  for  bond  or  plight, 

Nor  yet  for  golden  fee; 
But  for  the  sake  of  our  blessed  Lord, 

WTio  died  upon  the  tree. 

*'We  bring  our  great  King  Robert's  Heart 

Across  the  weltering  wave. 
To  lay  it  in  the  holy  soil 

Hard  by  the  Saviour's  grave. 

"True  Pilgrims  we,  by  land  or  sea. 

Where  danger  bars  the  way; 
And  therefore  are  we  here.  Lord  King, 

To  ride  with  thee  this  day ! " 

The  King  has  bent  his  stately  head. 
And  the  tears  were  in  his  eyne  — 

**  God's  blessing  on  thee,  noble  Knight, 
For  this  brave  thought  of  thine ! 

*'I  know  thy  name  full  well.  Lord  James; 

And  honoured  may  I  be. 
That  those  who  fought  beside  the  Bruce 

Should  fight  this  day  for  me! 


338        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Take  thou  the  leading  of  the  van. 

And  charge  the  Moors  amain; 
There  is  not  such  a  lance  as  thine 
^    In  all  the  host  of  Spain ! " 

The  Douglas  turned  towards  us  then. 
Oh,  but  his  glance  was  high !  — 

"There  is  not  one  of  all  my  men 
But  is  as  bold  as  I. 

"There  is  not  one  of  all  my  Knights 
But  bears  as  true  a  spear  — 

Then  onwards,  Scottish  gentlemen. 
And  think  King  Robert 's  here !  '* 

PART  III 

The  trumpets  blew,  the  cross-bolts  flew. 
The  arrows  flashed  like  flame. 

As  spur  in  side,  and  spear  in  rest. 
Against  the  foe  we  came. 

And  many  a  bearded  Saracen 

Went  down,  both  horse  and  man; 

For  through  their  ranks  we  rode  like  corn. 
So  furiously  we  ran! 

But  in  behind  our  path  they  closed. 
Though  fain  to  let  us  through, 

For  they  were  forty  thousand  men. 
And  we  were  wondrous  few. 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE      839 

We  might  not  see  a  lance's  length, 

So  dense  was  their  array, 
But  the  long  fell  sweep  of  the  Scottish  blade 
^  Still  held  them  hard  at  bay. 

"Make  in!  make  in!"  Lord  Douglas  cried  — 

*'Make  in,  my  brethren  dear! 
Sir  William  of  Saint  Clair  is  down; 

We  may  not  leave  him  here!" 

But  thicker,  thicker  grew  the  swarm, 

And  sharper  shot  the  rain, 
And  the  horses  reared  amid  the  press, 

But  they  would  not  charge  again. 

"Now  Jesu  help  thee,"  said  Lord  James, 
"Thou  kind  and  true  Saint  Clair! 

An'  if  I  may  not  bring  thee  off, 
I'll  die  beside  thee  there!" 

Then  in  his  stirrups  up  he  stood. 

So  lionlike  and  bold, 
And  held  the  precious  Heart  aloft 

All  in  its  case  of  gold. 

He  flung  it  from  him,  far  ahead, 

And  never  spake  he  more, 
But  —  "Pass  thee  first,  thou  dauntless  Heart, 

As  thou  wert  wont  of  yore ! " 


340        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  roar  of  fight  rose  fiercer  yet. 

And  heavier  still  the  stour, 
Till  the  spears  of  Spain  came  shivering  in, 

And  swept  away  the  Moor. 

*'Now  praised  be  God,  the  day  is  won! 

They  fly  o'er  flood  and  fell  — 
Why  dost  thou  draw  the  rein  so  hard, 

Good  Knight,  that  fought  so  well?" 

*'0h,  ride  ye  on,  Lord  King!"  he  said, 

*'And  leave  the  dead  to  me. 
For  I  must  keep  the  dreariest  watch 

That  ever  I  shall  dree! 

*' There  lies,  above  his  master's  Heart, 
The  Douglas,  stark  and  grim; 

And  woe  is  me  I  should  be  here. 
Not  side  by  side  with  him ! " 

The  King  he  lighted  from  his  horse. 

He  flung  his  brand  away. 
And  took  the  Douglas  by  the  hand. 

So  stately  as  he  lay. 

"God  give  thee  rest,  thou  valiant  soul! 

That  fought  so  well  for  Spain; 
I  'd  rather  half  my  land  were  gone. 

So  thou  wert  here  again ! " 


BARCLAY  OF  URY  341 

We  bore  the  good  Lord  James  away, 
And  the  priceless  Heart  we  bore, 

And  heavily  we  steered  our  ship 
Towards  the  Scottish  shore. 

No  welcome  greeted  our  return. 

Nor  clang  of  martial  tread, 
But  all  were  dumb  and  hushed  as  death 

Before  the  mighty  dead. 

We  laid  our  chief  in  Douglas  Kirk, 

The  Heart  in  fair  Melrose; 

And  woeful  men  were  we  that  day  — 

God  grant  their  souls  repose! 

William  Edmondstoune  Ayioun.  {Condensed) 


BARCLAY  OF  URY 

Up  the  streets  of  Aberdeen, 
By  the  kirk  and  college  green. 

Rode  the  Laird  of  Ury; 
Close  behind  him,  close  beside. 
Foul  of  mouth  and  evil-eyed, 

Pressed  the  mob  in  fury. 

[Flouted  him  the  drunken  churl. 
Jeered  at  him  the  serving-girl, 
Prompt  to  please  her  master; 


342        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

And  the  begging  carlin,  late 
Fed  and  clothed  at  Ury's  gate, 
Cursed  him  as  he  passed  her. 

Yet,  with  calm  and  stately  mien, 
Up  the  streets  of  Aberdeen 

Came  he  slowly  riding; 
And,  to  all  he  saw  and  heard. 
Answering  not  with  bitter  word. 

Turning  not  for  chiding. 

Came  a  troop  with  broadswords  swinging, 
Bits  and  bridles  sharply  ringing, 

Loose  and  free  and  fro  ward; 
Quoth  the  foremost,  "Ride  him  down! 
Push  him!  prick  him!  through  the  town 

Drive  the  Quaker  coward!" 

But  from  out  the  thickening  crowd 
Cried  a  sudden  voice  and  loud; 

"Barclay!  Ho!  a  Barclay!" 
And  the  old  man  at  his  side 
Saw  a  comrade,  battle-tried, 

Scarred  and  sunburned  darkly. 

Who  with  ready  weapon  bare, 
Fronting  to  the  troopers  there, 
Cried  aloud:  "God  save  us! 


BARCLAY  OF  URY  343 

Call  ye  coward  him  who  stood 
Ankle  deep  in  Llitzen's  blood, 
With  the  brave  Gustavus?" 


*'Nay,  I  do  not  need  thy  sword, 
Comrade  mine,"  said  Ury's  lord; 

"Put  it  up,  I  pray  thee: 
Passive  to  His  holy  will. 
Trust  I  in  my  Master  still, 

Even  though  He  slay  me. 

"Pledges  of  thy  love  and  faith. 
Proved  on  many  a  field  of  death, 

Not  by  me  are  needed." 
Marvelled  much  that  henchman  bold. 
That  his  Laird,  so  stout  of  old. 

Now  so  meekly  pleaded. 

"Woe's  the  day!"  he  sadly  said, 
W'ith  a  slowly  shaking  head. 

And  a  look  of  pity; 
"Ury's  honest  lord  reviled. 
Mock  of  knave  and  sport  of  child, 

In.  his  own  good  city! 


"Speak  the  word,  and,  master  mine. 
As  we  charged  on  Tilly's  line. 
And  his  Walloon  lancers. 


344        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Smiting  thro'  their  midst  we'll  teach 
Civil  look  and  decent  speech 
To  these  boyish  prancers ! " 

"Marvel  not,  mine  ancient  friend. 
Like  beginning,  like  the  end," 

Quoth  the  Laird  of  Ury; 
"Is  the  sinful  servant  more 
Than  his  gracious  Lord  who  bore 

Bonds  and  stripes  in  Jewry? 

"Give  me  joy  that  in  His  name, 
I  can  bear,  with  patient  frame. 

All  these  vain  ones  offer; 
While  for  them  He  suffereth  long, 
Shall  I  answer  wrong  with  wrong, 

ScoflBng  with  the  scoffer? 

"Happier  I,  with  loss  of  all, 
Hunted,  outlawed,  held  in  thrall. 

With  few  friends  to  greet  me. 
Than  when  reeve  and  squire  were  seen, 
Riding  out  from  Aberdeen, 

With  bared  heads  to  meet  me. 

"When  each  goodwife,  o'er  and  o'er. 
Blessed  me  as  I  passed  her  door; 
And  the  snooded  daughter. 


BARCTAY  OF  I^RY  345 

Through  her  casement  glancing  down, 
Smiled  on  him  who  bore  renown 
From  red  fields  of  slaughter. 

"Hard  to  feel  the  stranger's  scoff, 
Hard  the  old  friend's  falling  off, 

Hard  to  learn  forgiving; 
But  the  Lord  His  own  rewards. 
And  His  love  with  theirs  accords. 

Warm  and  fresh  and  hving. 

** Through  this  dark  and  stormy  night 
Faith  beholds  a  feeble  hght, 

Up  the  blackness  streaking; 
Knowing  God's  own  time  is  best, 
In  a  patient  hope  I  rest 

For  the  full  day-breaking!" 

So  the  Laird  of  Ury  said, 
Turning  slow  his  horse's  head, 

Towards  the  Tolbooth  prison, 
Where  through  iron  gates  he  heard 
Poor  disciples  of  the  Word 

Preach  of  Christ  arisen! 

Not  in  vain.  Confessor  old. 
Unto  us  the  tale  is  told 
Of  thy  day  of  trial; 


346        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Every  age  on  him  who  strays 
From  its  broad  and  beaten  ways 
Pours  its  seven-fold  vial. 

Happy  he  whose  inward  ear 
Angel  comfortings  can  hear, 

O'er  the  rabble's  laughter; 
And  while  Hatred's  fagots  burn, 
Glimpses  through  the  smoke  discern 

Of  the  good  hereafter. 

Knowing  this,  that  never  yet 
Share  of  Truth  was  vainly  set 

In  the  world's  wide  fallow; 
After  hands  shall  sow  the  seed, 
After  hands  from  hill  and  mead 

Reap  the  harvests  yellow. 

Thus,  with  somewhat  of  the  Seer, 

Must  the  moral  pioneer 

From  the  future  borrow; 

Clothe  the  waste  with  dreams  of  grain. 

And,  on  midnight's  sky  of  rain, 

Paint  the  golden  morrow! 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 


TIIE  TOUCHSTONE  347 

THE  TOUCHSTONE 

A  Man  there  came,  whence  none  could  tell, 
Bearing  a  Touchstone  in  his  hand, 
And  testing  all  things  in  the  land 
By  its  unerring  spell. 

A  thousand  transformations  rose 
From  fair  to  foul,  from  foul  to  fair; 
The  golden  crown  he  did  not  spare, 
Nor  scorn  the  beggar's  clothes. 

Of  heirloom  jewels,  prized  so  much, 
Were  many  changed  to  chips  and  clods; 
And  even  statues  of  the  gods 
Crumbled  beneath  its  touch. 

Then  angrily  the  people  cried, 
"The  loss  outweighs  the  profit  far; 
Our  goods  suffice  us  as  they  are: 
We  will  not  have  them  tried." 

And,  since  they  could  not  so  avail 
To  check  his  unrelenting  quest. 
They  seized  him,  saying,  "Let  him  test 
How  real  is  our  jail!" 

But  though  they  slew  him  with  the  sword, 
And  in  a  fire  liis  Touchstone  burned. 


348        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Its  doings  could  not  be  o'erturned. 
Its  undoings  restored. 

And  when  to  stop  all  future  harm, 
They  strewed  its  ashes  on  the  breeze, 
They  little  guessed  each  grain  of  these. 

Conveyed  the  perfect  charm. 

William  Allingham 


SIR  GALAHAD 

(The  Quest  of  the  Holy  Grail) 

My  good  blade  carves  the  casques  of  men, 

My  tough  lance  thrusteth  sure. 
My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten, 

Because  my  heart  is  pure. 
The  shattering  trumpet  shrilleth  high. 

The  hard  brands  shiver  on  the  steel, 
The  sphntered  spear-shafts  crack  and  fly, 

The  horse  and  rider  reel; 
They  reel,  they  roll  in  clanging  lists. 

And  when  the  tide  of  combat  stands. 
Perfume  and  flowers  fall  in  showers, 
"  That  lightly  rain  from  ladies'  hands. 

How  sweet  are  looks  that  ladies  bend 

On  whom  their  favours  fall ! 
For  them  I  battle  till  the  end, 

To  save  from  shame  and  thrall; 


SIR  GAL.VIIAD  349 

But  all  my  heart  is  drawn  above, 

My  knees  are  bowed  in  crypt  and  shrine, 
I  never  felt  the  kiss  of  love, 

Nor  maiden's  hand  in  mine. 
More  bounteous  aspects  on  me  beam, 

Me  mightier  transports  move  and  thrill; 
So  keep  I  fair  thro'  faith  and  prayer, 

A  virgin  heart  in  work  and  will. 

"VMien  down  the  stormy  crescent  goes, 

A  light  before  me  swims, 
Between  dark  stems  the  forest  glows, 

I  hear  a  noise  of  hymns. 
Then  by  some  secret  shrine  I  ride; 

I  hear  a  voice,  but  none  are  there; 
The  stalls  are  void,  the  doors  are  wide. 

The  tapers  burning  fair. 
Fair  gleams  the  snowy  altar-cloth, 

The  silver  vessels  sparkle  clean, 
The  shrill  bell  rings,  the  censer  swings, 

And  solemn  chaunts  resound  between. 

Sometimes  on  lonely  mountain-meres 

I  find  a  magic  bark. 
I  leap  on  board;  no  helmsman  steers; 

I  float  till  all  is  dark. 
A  gentle  sound,  an  awful  light! 

Three  Angels  bear  the  Holy  Grail; 
With  folded  feet,  in  stoles  of  white, 

On  sleeping  wings  they  sail. 


350        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Ah,  blessed  vision!  blood  of  God! 

My  spirit  beats  her  mortal  bars. 
As  down  dark  tides,  the  glory  slides, 

And  starlike  mingles  with  the  stars. 

When  on  my  goodly  charger  borne 

Thro'  dreaming  towns  I  go. 
The  cock  crows  ere  the  Christmas  morn, 

The  streets  are  dumb  with  snow. 
The  tempest  crackles  on  the  leads. 

And,  ringing,  springs  from  brand  and  mail; 
But  o'er  the  dark  a  glory  spreads, 

And  gilds  the  driving  hail. 
I  leave  the  plain,  I  climb  the  height; 

No  branchy  thicket  shelter  yields; 
But  blessed  forms  in  whistling  storms 

Fly  o'er  waste  fens  and  windy  fields. 

A  maiden  Knight  —  to  me  is  given 

Such  hope,  I  know  not  fear; 
I  yearn  to  breathe  the  airs  of  Heaven 

That  often  meet  me  here. 
I  muse  on  joy  that  will  not  cease,  ~ 

Pure  spaces  clothed  in  living  beams. 
Pure  lilies  of  eternal  peace, 

Whose  odours  haunt  my  dreams; 
And,  stricken  by  an  Angel's  hand, 

This  mortal  armour  that  I  wear. 
This  weight  and  size,  this  heart  and  eyes, 

Are  touched,  are  turned  to  finest  air. 


PILGRIJNIAGE  351 

The  clouds  are  broken  in  tlie  sky, 

And  thro'  the  mountain-walls 
A  rolling  organ-harmony 

Swells  up  and  shakes  and  falls. 
Then  move  the  trees,  the  copses  nod. 

Wings  flutter,  voices  hover  clear; 
*'0  just  and  faithful  Knight  of  God! 

Ride  on!  the  prize  is  near." 
So  pass  I  hostel,  hall,  and  grange; 

By  bridge  and  ford,  by  park  and  pale, 

All-armed  I  ride,  whate'er  betide. 

Until  I  find  the  Holy  Grail. 

Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson 

PILGRIMAGE 

Give  me  my  Scallop-shell  of  Quiet, 
My  Staff  of  Faith  to  walk  upon; 
My  Scrip  of  Joy,  immortal  diet; 
My  Bottle  of  Salvation. 
My  Gown  of  Glory,  (Hope's  true  Gage) 
And  thus  I  '11  take  my  Pilgrimage. 

Blood  must  be  my  Bodie's  only  Balmer, 
Whilst  my  Soul  like  a  quiet  Palmer, 
Travelleth  towards  the  Land  of  Heaven, 
No  other  Balm  will  there  be  given. 

Over  the  Silver  Mountains, 

Where  spring  the  Nectar  Fountains, 


352        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

There  will  I  kiss  the  Bowl  of  Bliss, 
And  drink  mine  everlasting  fill 
Upon  every  milken  Hill. 
My  Soul  will  be  a-dry  before. 
But  after,  it  will  thirst  no  more. 
I'll  take  them  first,  to  quench  my  Thirst, 
And  taste  of  Nectar's  Suckets, 
At  those  clear  Wells 
Where  Sweetness  dwells. 
Drawn  up  by  Saints  in  crystal  buckets. 

More  peaceful  Pilgrims  I  shall  see, 
That  have  cast  off  their  Rags  of  Clay, 
And  walk  apparelled  fresh  like  me. 
And  when  our  Bodies  and  all  we 
Are  filled  with  Immortality, 
Then  the  blessed  Parts  we'll  travel, 
Strowed  with  Rubies  thick  as  Gravel, 
Ceilings  of  Diamonds,  Saphire  Flowers, 
High  Walls  of  Coral,  and  pearly  Bowers. 

From  thence  to  Heaven's  bribeless  Hall, 
Where  no  corrupted  Voices  brawl, 
No  Cause  deferred,  no  vain  spent  Journey, 
For  there  Christ  is  the  King's  Attorney, 
Who  pleads  for  all  without  Degrees, 
And  He  hath  Angels,  but  no  Fees. 


TIIE  ROYAL  COURT  353 

And  this  is  mine  eternal  Plea, 

To  Him  that  made  Heaven,  Earth  and  Sea, 

That  since  my  Flesh  must  die  so  soon, 

And  want  a  Head  to  dine  next  Noon, 

Just  at  the  Stroke,  when  my  Veins  start  and 

spread. 
Set  on  my  Soul  an  everlasting  Head. 
Then  am  I  ready,  like  a  Palmer  fit. 
To  tread  those  blest  Paths  which  before  I 

writ. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  (Condensed) 


THE  ROYAL  COURT 

In  Royal  Courts  my  Soul  hath  slept, 

On  royal  meats  I  've  fed ; 
Royal  favour  sheltered  me. 

My  Soul  was  wellnigh  dead. 

The  royal  eye 's  now  turned  away. 
And  scorn  and  dearth  are  mine; 

False-hearted  friends  are  fled  afar. 
My  Soul  awakes  to  pine. 

"Oh!  where,  my  Soul,  seek  refuge  now. 
While  mocking  foes  pursue? 

Oh!  whither  shall  I  flee  away, 
Thou  Soul  so  full  of  rue.'^" 


354        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

"Turn,  turn  unto  this  greenwood  shade. 
And  rest  beneath  HQs  Tree, 

With  httle  birds  on  every  bough 
To  sing  His  peace  to  thee. 

"A  loyal  King  doth  here  abide. 

Here  is  his  Royal  Court; 
His  carpet  green 's  enamelled  bright 

With  flowers  of  every  sort. 

"His  subjects,  all  the  wild  wood  things, 

He  feedeth  from  His  hand; 
His  messengers  are  birds  and  winds. 

His  will  they  understand. 

*'His  table  is  bedecked  with  moss; 

His  almoners  are  bees, 
The  berry-vine,  the  leaping  stream. 

And  all  the  fruitful  trees. 

"Here  shalt  thou  find  a  Royal  Court 
Where  flatt'ry  holds  no  sway; 

And  gentle  is  the  royal  eye. 
Here  friendship  comes  to  stay. 

"Turn,  turn  unto  the  sweet  greenwood, 

O  happy  One!  and  sing 

Praise  with  the  birds  and  all  good  life. 

To  Christ  who  is  our  King!" 

Modern,  anon. 


TRUE  VALOUR  355 

TRUE  VALOUR 

Who  icould  true  Valour  see. 
Let  him  come  hither; 
One  here  will  constant  he. 
Come  Wind,  come  Weather. 
There  's  no  Discouragement, 
Shall  make  him  once  Relent, 
His  first  avow'd  Intent, 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

Who  so  beset  him  rounds 
With  dismal  Storys, 
Do  hut  themselves  confound; 
His  Strength  the  more  is. 
No  Lyon  can  him  fright, 
He  7  with  a  Gyant  Fight, 
But  he  will  have  a  right. 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

Hobgoblin,  nor  foul  Fiend, 
Ca?i  daunt  his  Spirit: 
He  knows,  he  at  the  end. 
Shall  Life  Inherit. 
Then  Fancies  fly  away. 
He  7  fear  not  what  men  say, 
He'l  labor  Night  and  Day, 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

John  Bunijan  {from  reprint  of  first  edition) 


356        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

PEACE 

Sweet  Peace,  where  dost  thou  dwell,  I  humbly 
crave? 

Let  me  once  know. 

I  sought  thee  in  a  secret  cave. 

And  asked  if  Peace  were  there. 
A  hollow  wind  did  seem  to  answer,  *'No! 

Go  seek  elsewhere." 

I  did;  and  going  did  a  Rainbow  note: 

"Surely,"  thought  I, 

"This  is  the  lace  of  Peace's  coat; 

I  will  search  out  the  matter." 
But  while  I  looked  the  clouds  immediately 

Did  break  and  scatter. 

Then  went  I  to  a  garden,  and  did  spy 

A  gallant  flower,  — 

The  Crown-Imperial.   "Sure,"  said  I, 

"Peace  at  the  root  must  dwell." 
But  when  I  digged,  I  saw  a  worm  devour 

What  showed  so  well. 

At  length  I  met  a  rev'rend,  good,  old  man; 

Whom,  when  for  Peace 

I  did  demand,  he  thus  began: 

"There  was  a  Prince  of  old 
At  Salem  dwelt.  Who  Uved  with  good  increase 

Of  flock  and  fold. 


THE  THREE  KINGS  357 

"He  sweetly  lived;  yet  sweetness  did  not  save 

His  life  from  foes. 

But  after  death,  out  of  His  grave 

There  sprang  twelve  stalks  of  Wheat; 
Which  many  wondering  at  got  some  of  those 

To  plant  and  set. 

"It  prospered  strangely,  and  did  soon  disperse 

Through  all  the  Earth; 

For  they  that  taste  it  do  rehearse 

That  virtue  hes  therein,  — 
A  secret  virtue,  bringing  Peace  and  Mirth 

By  flight  of  Sin. 

"Take  of  this  grain,  which  in  my  garden  grows, 

And  grows  for  you: 

Make  bread  of  it;  and  that  repose 

And  Peace,  which  ev'ry  where 
With  so  much  earnestness  you  do  pursue, 

Is  only  there.'* 

George  Herbert 

THE  THREE  KINGS 

Three  Kings  came  riding  from  far  away, 

Melchior  and  Gaspar  and  Baltasar; 
Three  Wise  Men  out  of  the  East  were  they. 
And  they  travelled  by  night  and  they  slept  by  day. 
For  their  guide  was  a  beautiful,  wonderful  Star. 


358        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

The  Star  was  so  beautiful,  large,  and  clear, 

That  all  the  other  stars  of  the  sky, 
Became  a  white  mist  in  the  atmosphere. 
And  by  this  they  knew  that  the  coming  was  near 
Of  the  Prince  foretold  in  the  prophecy. 

Three  caskets  they  bore  on  their  saddle-bows. 

Three  caskets  of  gold  with  golden  keys; 
Their  robes  were  of  crimson  silk  with  rows 
Of  bells  and  pomegranates  and  furbelows. 
Their  turbans  like  blossoming  almond-trees. 

And  so  the  Three  Kings  rode  into  the  West, 

Through  the  dusk  of  night,  over  hill  and  dell. 
And  sometimes  they  nodded  with  beard  on  breast. 
And  sometimes  talked,  as  they  paused  to  rest, 
With  the  people  they  met  at  some  wayside  well. 

"  Of  the  Child  that  is  born,"  said  Baltasar, 

"Good  people,  I  pray  you,  tell  us  the  news; 
For  we  in  the  East  have  seen  his  Star, 
And  have  ridden  fast,  and  have  ridden  far. 
To  find  and  worship  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

And  the  people  answered,  "You  ask  in  vain; 

We  know  of  no  King  but  Herod  the  Great!" 
They  thought  the  Wise  Men  were  men  insane. 
As  they  spurred  their  horses  across  the  plain. 

Like  riders  in  haste,  and  who  cannot  wait. 


THE  THREE  KINGS  359 

And  when  they  came  to  Jerusalem, 

Herod  the  Great,  who  had  heard  this  thing, 

Sent  for  the  Wise  Men  and  questioned  them; 

And  said,  "Go  down  unto  Bethlehem, 
And  bring  me  tidings  of  this  new  King.'* 

So  they  rode  away;  and  the  Star  stood  still, 

The  only  one  in  the  grey  of  morn; 
Yes,  it  stopped  —  it  stood  still  of  its  own  free  will. 
Right  over  Bethlehem  on  the  hill. 

The  City  of  David,  where  Christ  was  born. 

And  the  Three  Kings  rode  through  the  gate  and 
the  guard. 
Through   the   silent   street,   till   their   horses 
turned 
And  neighed  as  they  entered  the  great  inn-yard ; 
But  the  windows  were  closed  and  the  doors  were 
barred. 
And  only  a  light  in  the  stable  burned. 

And  cradled  there  in  the  scented  hay, 

In  the  air  made  sweet  by  the  breath  of  kine, 
The  little  Child  in  the  manger  lay, 
The  Child,  that  would  be  King  one  day 
Of  a  Kingdom  not  human  but  divine. 

His  mother  Mary  of  Nazareth 

Sat  watching  beside  his  place  of  rest. 


360        STORY-TELLING  BALLADS 

Watching  the  even  flow  of  his  breath. 
For  the  joy  of  Hfe  and  the  terror  of  death 
Were  mingled  together  in  her  breast. 

They  laid  their  offerings  at  his  feet: 

The  gold  was  their  tribute  to  a  King, 
The  frankincense,  with  its  odour  sweet. 
Was  for  the  Priest,  the  Paraclete, 

The  myrrh  for  the  body's  burying.  ^ 

And  the  mother  wondered  and  bowed  her  head,  , 

And  sat  as  still  as  a  statue  of  stone;  ' 

Her  heart  was  troubled  yet  comforted, 

Remembering  what  the  Angel  had  said 
Of  an  endless  reign  and  of  David's  throne. 

Then  the  Kings  rode  out  of  the  city  gate, 
With  a  clatter  of  hoofs  in  proud  array; 
But  they  went  not  back  to  Herod  the  Great, 
For  they  knew  his  malice  and  feared  his  hate. 
And  returned  to  their  homes  by  another  way. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  « 

I 


APPENDIX 


SUGGESTIONS 

FOR  TEACHERS  AND  LEADERS  OF 
POETRY  HOURS 

Primitive  ballads  have  a  straightforward  felicity;  many  of  them  a  con- 
juring  melody  as  befits  verse  and  music  born  together.  Their  gold  is 
virgin,  from  the  rock  strata,  and  none  the  better  for  refining  and  bur- 
nishing. No  language  is  richer  in  them  than  the  English. 

Edmund  Clarence  Stedman 

The  old  song  of  Chery-Chase  is  the  favourite  ballad  of  the  Common  People 
of  England;  and  Ben  Jonson  used  to  say,  he  had  rather  have  been  the 
author  of  it  than  of  all  his  works.  .  .  .  For  my  own  part,  I  am  so  pro- 
fessed an  admirer  of  this  antiquated  song,  that  I  shall  give  my  reader  a 
critic  upon  it. 

Joseph  Addison 

Ballads  are  living  organisms.^  If  a  teacher  requires 
a  pupil  to  analyze  minutely  a  ballad  according  to  rules 
of  prosody  and  literary  criticism,  the  analysis  ruth- 
lessly destroys  its  spontaneous  folk-spirit.  To  dissect 
a  ballad  is  literary  slaughter. 

We  all  know  how  the  cold-blooded  analysis  of  choice 
masterpieces  destroys  forever  a  pupil's  pleasure  in 
reading  them.  The  teacher  of  ballad-literature  should 
use  the  opposite  method  to  that  of  literary  criticism. 
She  should  make  her  pupil  delight  in  a  ballad  for 
its  own  sake;  for  its  unity,  its  swinging  rhythm,  its 
unself-conscious  expressions  of  emotion,  and  for  the 
human  life  within  it. 

A  ballad  treated  in  this  sympathetic  manner  will 
become  a  thrilling  memory  for  the  pupil  to  carry 
through  the  years.   A  ballad  presented  thus  has  edu- 

^  See  Foreword,  page  vii. 


364  APPENDIX 

cational  values  besides  that  of  giving  joy.  It  may  be 
used  to  develop  the  pupil's  sense  of  time  and  rhythm; 
to  enlarge  his  vocabulary;  to  teach  him  to  express  his 
thoughts  without  affectation;  to  give  him  ease  in  sight- 
reading  of  Scottish  dialect  and  old  Enghsh  spelling  and 
to  accustom  him  to  obsolete  words.  As  a  memory 
exercise  for  the  pupil,  the  learning  and  recitation  of 
ballads  is  unrivaled;  because  young  people  memorize 
them  without  effort.  And  furthermore,  ballads  have 
dramatic  qualities  that  hold  and  move  a  mixed  audi- 
ence of  boys  and  girls  of  all  ages  —  and  of  grown  folk, 
too,  for  that  matter. 

But  perhaps  the  most  important  educational  func- 
tion of  ballad-literature  is  that  of  being  a  safety-valve 
for  the  escape  of  new,  fast-rising  feelings  and  enthu- 
siasms of  growing  boys  and  girls,  feelings  that  throng 
and  press  for  utterance.  Young  people  do  not  know 
how  to  put  them  into  their  own  words,  but  find  a 
wholesome  and  satisfying  means  of  expressing  their 
emotions  through  learning  and  reciting  ballads  or  by 
reading  them  aloud. 

THE  BALLADS  IN  THIS  BOOK 

There  are  many  versions  of  old  ballads,  of  some  as 
many  as  twenty  or  more;  those  most  suitable  for  young 
people  are  given  here. 

There  are  included  here  ballads  in  Scottish  dialect, 
and  in  old  English  wording  with  obsolete  spelling  and 
capitalization.  These  versions  may  be  used  with  con- 
fidence by  the  teacher,  because  no  pains  have  been 
spared  in  collating  them  by  authoritative  texts.  ^ 
'  See  Acknowledgments,  p.  xv,  and  Foreword,  p.  vii. 


APPENDIX  SG5 

.  Even  such  differing  forms  as  o'  or  o;  vyV  or  wi;  e'e  or 
ee;  then  for  than  or  than  for  then;  and  variations  of 
proper  names,  as  in  "Proud  Lady  Margaret,"  have 
been  followed  according  to  the  text  used. 

Quotation  marks,  only,  have  been  added  for  the  con- 
venience of  the  young  folk.  A  few  objectionable,  but 
unimportant,  words  have  been  changed.  In  the  version 
of  "Chevy-Chase,"  Bishop  Percy's  Folio  Manuscript 
has  been  followed  with  a  few  emendations  from  his 
Reliques,  including  the  capitalization  of  the  first  letter 
of  each  line.  The  Folio  Manuscript  is  more  authorita- 
tive than  the  Reliques. 

Some  of  the  ballads  and  verses  which  follow  the  old 
forms  given  by  collectors  are:  "The  Stormy  Winds  Do 
Blow,"  p.  2;  "Sir  Patrick  Spens,"  p.  3;  "The  Daemon 
Lover,"  p.  7;  "Che\T-Chase,"  p.  21;  "Proud  Lady 
Margaret,"  p.  62;  "The  Famous  Flower  of  Serving- 
Men,"  p.  65;  "The  Young  Tamlane,"  p.  255;  "Thomas 
the^Rhymer,"  p.  93;  "The  Wee  Wee  Man,"  p.  114; 
"The  Earl  of  Mar's  Daughter,"  p.  115;  "Kemp 
Owyne,"  p.  122;  "Fair  Anny  of  Roch-royal,"  p.  191; 
"The  Cruel  Sister,"  p.  196;  "Blancheflour  and  Jelly- 
florice,"  p.  209;  "The  Gay  Goss-Hawk,"  p.  218; 
"Bonny  Baby!  Livingston,"  p.  224;  "Young  Beichan 
and  Susie  Pye,"  p.  237;  "The  Wife  of  Usher's  Well," 
p.  263;  "Sir  Roland,"  p.  265;  the  Robm  Hood  ballads, 
p.  290  ff.;  "True  Valour,"  p.  355;  "Pilgrimage,"  p. 
351;  "Peace,"  p.  356. 

In  striking  and  pleasing  contrast  to  the  old  ballads 
are  the  modern  ones  with  capitalization  to  please 
modern  children.  It  may  be  noted  that  the  texts  of 
Keats's  "La  Belle  Dame,"  and  Campbell's  "Earl 
March,"  are  different  from  the  versions  usually  in- 


S66  APPENDIX 

eluded  in  children's  ballad-books.  The  texts  followed 
here  are  those  most  lately  approved  by  Uterary  critics. 


PROGRAMIVIE 
FOR  A  YEAR  OF  BALLAD-READING  AND  STUDY 

ONE  PERIOD  A  WEEK  FOR  FORTY  WEEKS 
Ways  in  which  ballads  may  be  used  in  the  classroom 
or  during  Poetry  Hours : 

1.  Reading  aloud  for  development  of  literary  taste. 
This  is  the  most  important  educational  use  of  ballads. 

/  The  teacher  should  read  them  aloud  to  the  class,  giv- 
[^  ing  them  all  their  native  swing  and  quick  pulsation. 
The  minstrels,  who  composed  them,  often  accented 
words  to  suit  the  length  of  their  lines;  so  if  the  reader 
will  lend  her  voice  to  the  rhythm  of  the  verse,  the 
accents  will  fall  where  they  belong.  Such  words  as 
country,  harper,  singer,  damsel,  lady,  and  battle  should 
sometimes  be  accented  on  the  last  syllable,  as  country, 
singer,  harper,  lady. 

2.  Memorizing  and  reciting.  Boys  and  girls  enjoy 
learnmg  ballads  by  heart.  They  do  so  with  astonishing 
ease.  The  teacher  may  assign  one  ballad  to  the  whole 
class;  or  she  may  divide  the  class  into  sections  and 
assign  a  ballad  to  each  section.  This  should  be  done  at 
least  two  or  three  weeks  before  the  period  for  recita- 
tion. The  teacher  may  then  call  on  one  or  more  of  the 
pupils  to  recite. 

3.  Story-telling  from  the  ballads.  The  teacher  may 
read  aloud  a  ballad.  She  should  read  it  two  or  three 
times  to  the  class.  Then  the  pupils  may  retell  it  in 
story  form  either  orally  or  in  writing. 


APPENDIX  367 

4.  Dramatization.  Ballads  are  so  dramatic  and  sim- 
ple in  their  movement  that  they  may  be  easily  acted  in 
the  schoolroom  with  or  without  improvised  scenery 
and  costumes.  The  teacher  or  pupil  may  read  aloud 
the  ballad,  while  some  of  the  boys  and  girls  act  it  out 
in  dumb  show;  or,  better  yet,  the  actors  may  recite  the 
lines  that  belong  to  their  parts,  and  the  teacher  may 
read  aloud  the  descriptive  parts  only.  AMienever  a 
refrain  occurs,  as  in  "The  Stormy  Winds  Do  Blow," 
the  whole  class  may  join  in  reciting  it. 

5.  Writing  jrom  memory.  The  teacher  may  assign  a 
ballad  to  the  class  to  learn  by  heart;  and  then  she  may 
have  the  class  write  it  out  from  memory  following  closely 
the  spelling,  punctuation,  and  dialect  of  the  text. 

6.  Original  ballad-writing.  Young  people  are  natural 
ballad-makers.  At  the  end  of  the  year,  after  memo- 
rizing and  reciting  ballads  and  listening  to  them  read 
aloud,  the  pupils  will  be  so  saturated  with  ballad- 
spirit  and  meter,  that  ballad-writing  will  be  a  second 
nature.  The  teacher  may  then  tell,  very  briefly  but 
interestingly,  the  plot  of  a  ballad,  and  let  the  pupils 
put  it  into  original  verses,  giving  them  a  week  or  two 
in  which  to  do  so.  After  this  exercise  the  teacher  may 
assign  a  local  legend  or  story  for  practice  in  original 
ballad-writing. 

The  Programme  that  is  given  here  is  merely  sugges- 
tive. All  the  ballads  in  the  book  are  good  to  read  aloud, 
and  most  of  them  may  be  dramatized  or  memorized. 
The  course  presented  below  shows  a  teacher  how  she 
may,  by  progressive  steps,  develop  her  pupils'  taste 
for  ballad-literature,  and  prepare  them  to  appreciate 
more  mature  forms  of  narrative  poetry,  such  as  metri- 
cal romances  and  epics. 


368  APPENDIX 

COURSE  FOR  FORTY  WEEKS ONE  PERIOD  A 

WEEK 

1st  Week.  Reading  aloud:  The  Laidley  Worm  0'  Spindle- 

ston-Heughs,  p.  148. 
Sd  Week.  Jf?e(KZm^a/o?^<i;LittleBiIlee,  p.  159;BrianO'Linn, 
p.  160;  Dicky  of  Ballyman,  p.  162;  The  Cinder  King, 
p.  167. 
3d  Week.  Dramatization:  The   Stormy  Winds  Do  Blow, 
p.  2;  The  Noble  Riddle,  p.  208;  "Earl  March  looked 
on  his  dying  child,"  p.  203. 
Jf^tk  Week.  Reading  aloud:  The  Lady  of  Shalott,  p.  124;  The 

Singing  Leaves,  p.  131. 
5tk  Week.  Dramatization:  Kemp  Owyne,  p.  122;  The  Erl- 

King,  p.  86. 
6th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  llobrn  Hood  and  Little  John, 

p.  291 ;  Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda,  p.  297. 
7th  Week.  Dramatization:  Ballad  of  theOysterman,  p.  164; 
Earl  Haldan's  Daughter,  p.  58;  The  Greeting  of  Kynast, 
p.  74;  A  Tragic  Story,  p.  158. 
8th  Week.   Reading  aloud   (Halloween  Week):  The  Spell, 
p.  254;  Sir  Roland,  p.  265;  The  Cruel  Sister,  p.  196; 
The  Skeleton  in  Armour,  p.  270. 
9th  Week.  Dramatization:  Glenara,  p.  212;  The  Daemon 

Lover,  p.  7. 
10th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd, 

p.  176. 
11th  Week.  Story-telling  from  the  Ballads:  Yoimg  Beichan 

and  Susie  Pye,  p.  237. 
12th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  The  Fairy  Thorn,  p.  87;  The 

Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan,  p.  97. 
13th  Week.  Memorizing  and  reciting:  True  Valour,  p.  355; 
The  Touchstone,  p.  347;  Barclay  of  Ury,  p.  341;  Pil- 
grimage, p.  351. 
14th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  The  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  p.  333. 
15th  Week.  Memorizing  and  reciting  (for  Christmas):  The 
Royal  Court,  p.  353;  Peace,  p.  356;  The  Three  Kings, 
p.  357. 
16th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  Lady  Clare,  p.  59;  Sir  Galahad, 
p.  348. 


APPENDIX  309 

17th  Week.  Story -telling  from  tJie  Ballads:  The  Earl  of  Mar's 

Daughter,  p.  115. 
18th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed  Meg, 

p.  32. 
19th  Week.  Dramatization:  The  Gay  Goss-Hawk,  p.  218; 

Thomas  the  Rhymer,  p.  93, 
20th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  Young  Tamlane,  p.  255. 
Blst  Week.  Memorizing  and  reciting:  Lord  Lovel,  p.  204;  The 

Beggar-Maid,  p.  214;  The  Sands  of  Dee,  p.  190;  Lochm- 

var,  p.  215. 
S2d  Week.  Reading  aloud:  Fair  Anny  ol  Roch-royal,  p.  191; 

Bonny  Baby  Livingston,  p.  224. 
23d  Week.  Story-telling  from  the  Ballads:  Blancheflour  and 

Jellyflorice,  p.  209. 
2Uh  Week.  Reading  aloud:  The  Child  of  Elle,  p.  244. 
25th  Week.  Writing  from  memory:  The  Birth  o'  Robin  Hood, 

p.  290;  The  Wee  Wee  Man,  p.  114. 
26th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  More  Modern  Ballad  of  Chevy- 
Chase,  p.  21. 
27th  Week.  Story-telling  from  the  Ballads:  Cochrane's  Bonny 

Grizzy,  p.  70;  The  Frolicksome  Duke,  p.  169. 
28th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  May  of  the  Moril  Glen,  p.  138. 
29th  Week.  Writing  from  memory:  The  Wife  of  Usher's  Well, 

p.  263. 
30th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  Sir  Patrick  Spens,  p.  3;  HjTid 

Horn,  p.  231. 
31st  Week.  Writing  from  memory:  Proud   Lady  Margaret, 

p.  62. 
32d  Week.   Reading  aloud:  Song  of   the  Outlaw  Murray, 

p.  301. 
33d  Week.  Original  hallad-toriting:  Barbara  Allen's  Cruelty, 

p.  201;   Alice  Brand,  p.  81;    The  Famous   Flower  of 

Serving-Men,  p.  65. 
3J!fth  Week.  Reading  aloud:  The  Eve  of  St.  John,  p.  279. 
3dth  Week.  Memorizing  and  reciting:  The    Fairy  Tempter, 

p.  80;  The  Luck  of  Edenhall,  p.  135;  La  Belle  Dame 

sans  Merci,  p.  91. 
36th  Week.  Reading  aloud:  The  Mermaid,  p.  10. 
37th  Week.  Original  ballad-writing:  King  Jumes  the  First  and 


370  APPENDIX 

the  Tinkler,  p.  173;  Valentine  and  Ursine,  p.  314;  Belted 
Will,  p.  47. 

38tk  Week.  Reading  aloud:  Kilmeny,  p.  101. 

39th  Week.  Original  ballad-writing:  The  teacher  may  assign  a 
subject  for  this  —  a  local  legend  or  story  of  a  patriotic 
or  historical  event. 

40th  Week.  Entertainment  for  Parents  and  Friends  of  Pupils: 
The  ballad-course  may  close  with  an  afternoon  or  even- 
ing entertainment.  This  may  be  made  delightful.  AU 
the  pupils  should  take  part  in  the  exercises. 

Many  of  the  old  ballads  are  set  to  charming  ancient 
tunes,  and  may  be  sung  by  the  whole  school.  Banjo 
or  guitar  accompaniment  is  specially  appropriate  to 
ballad  airs.  Musical  scores  for  some  of  the  ballads  in 
this  book  —  "The  Cruel  Sister"  ("The  Twa  Sisters"), 
"Hynd  Horn,"  "Sir  Patrick  Spens,"  "Young 
Beichan,"  "Proud  Lady  Margaret,"  "The  Famous 
Flower  of  Serving-Men,"  and  "  Lord  Lovel "  —  may  be 
found  in  Professor  Child's  English  and  Scottish  Popu- 
lar Ballads,  large  edition,  part  10.  If  the  music  of  old 
ballads  is  not  obtainable,  then  popular,  well-known 
ballads,  such  as  "Annie  Laurie,"  "Ben  Bolt,"  and 
"Loch  Lomond,"  may  be  sung  in  their  stead. 

The  following  outline  for  an  entertainment  may  be 
varied  to  suit  the  abilities  and  interests  of  the  boys  and 
girls  who  are  to  take  part: 

PROGRAMME  FOR  AN  ENTERTAINMENT 

One  or  more  ballads  sung  by  the  pupils. 

Recitation. 

Dramatization. 

Ballad-reading. 

A  ballad  solo. 

Recitation. 


APPENDIX  371 

Reading  of  the  best  original  ballad  composed  by  a  pupil. 

Dramatization. 

Recitation. 

Close:  the  audience  and  pupils  may  sing  one  or  more 

popular,  well-known  American  ballads,  such  as  may 

be  found  in  any  good  song-collection. 

In  making  up  her  Programme,  the  teacher  should 
avoid  selecting  very  long  ballads  for  memorization  and 
recitation.  It  is  best  to  let  the  pupils  who  are  to  recite, 
choose  the  "ballads  they  like  best.  She  should  be  care- 
ful to  balance  her  Programme  with  verses  of  all  kinds 
—  grave  and  gay,  sad  and  weird,  romantic  and  histori- 
cal. She  should  so  artistically  compose  her  Programme 
that  it  will  play  on  the  emotions  of  her  audience,  mov- 
ing it  from  laughter  to  tears,  from  awe  to  the  heroic. 
That  is  what  ballads  are  for,  to  touch  the  heart,  as 
well  as  the  head. 

FOR  LIBRARIANS  AND  SOCIAL  WORKERS 

This  entire  course,  as  outlined  for  forty  weeks,  may- 
be followed  by  Librarians  and  Social  Workers.  They 
may,  however,  shorten  the  Programme  or  alter  it  to 
suit  the  occasion. 


GLOSSARY  AND  INDEXES 


i 


GLOSSARY 


A'.aU 

Aboon,  above 

Abune,  above 

Acton,  stuffed  leather  jacket  worn 

under  coat-of-mail 
Ae,  one,  single,  sole,  mere 
'Aff,  off.  oft 
Aften,  often 
Aiblins,  perhaps 
Aik,  oak 
Ain,  own 
Aim,  iron 
Alake,  alas! 
Alane,  alone 
Amang,  among 
An, and 
Ance,  once 
Ane,  one 
Ankers,  anchors 
Anse,  once 
Ask,  newt,  lizard 
Atabal,  Moorish  kettledrum 
Attour,  above 
Auld,  old 

Awa'  or  awa,  away 
Awn,  own 
Ayme,  aim 

Bairn  or  baimie,  child 

Baith,  both 

Bale,  fire,  faggot 

Ban, band 

Bane,  bone 

Bartizan,   a    small    overhanging 

turret  jutting  out  from  the  top 

of  a  tower 
Bash,  beat,  smash  in 


Beacon,  a  fire  lighted  on  a  height 
as  a  danger  signal  to  call  to- 
gether warriors  to  repel  the 
enemy 

Bedeen,  immediately,  forthwith; 
often  used  as  an  expletive,  or 
as  a  rhyme-word  at  the  end  of 
a  line 

Belay,  lie  in  the  way  for 

Beltan  or  Beltane,  a  Celtic  pagan 
festival  celebrated  on  May  Day 
or  May  3d,  by  lighting  bon- 
fires on  hilltops 

Bent,  coarse  grass,  open  field, 
sandy  knoll  covered  with 
coarse  grass,  the  follow  of  a 
hill 

Berserk,  ancient  Norse  warrior 
who  raged  with  fury  in  battle 

Bigged,  built 

Bigly,  pleasant  to  live  in,  spacious 

Billie,  comrade,  brother 

Birk,  birch 

Birkie,  lively 

Birling,  <lrinking 

Bla,  l)low 

Black  Rood  Stone,  The  Black 
Rood  of  Melrose,  a  crucifix  of 
supposedly  great  sanctity 

Blee,  colom-,  complexion 

Blew,  blue 

Blin,  cease,  stop 

Blude,  blood 

Borrow,  set  free,  deliver,  ransom 

Bond,  behoved,  was  obliged 

Bouir,  bower 

Boun',  bound,  bound  home 


376 


GLOSSARY 


Botir,  bower 

Bout,  bolt 

Bower  or  bowir,  lady's  chamber, 
a  house,  a  rustic  cottage 

Bra',  fine,  handsome,  brave 

Brae,  down,  a  slope  of  a  hill 

Braid,  broad.  "A  braid  letter"; 
a  letter  on  a  broad  sheet,  or  a 
long  letter 

Brak,  broke 

Brake,  thicket,  a  place  overgrown 
with  ferns,  shrubs,  and  bram- 
bles 

Brash,  sickness 

Brast,  burst 

Brattle,  race,  hurry 

Braw,  comely,  handsome,  well- 
dressed 

Bree,  brows,  eyebrows 

Brode,  breed 

Broom,  the  Genista,  a  shrub  with 
bright  golden  flov.'ers 

Bughts,  pens 

Burd  alone,  by  himself,  solitary 

Bum,  brook 

Busked,  dressed,  adorned 

But  and,  and  also 

Bygane,  gone  by 

Byre,  cow-house 

Cade  lamb,  lamb  brought  up  by 

hand,  pet  lamb 
Gallant,  lad 
Cam'  or  cam,  came 
Capapie,  cap-i-pie,  from  head  to 

foot.   Armed  cap-a-pie,  armed 

from  head  to  foot 
Carl  or  carle,  churl 
Carllne,    old    woman,    peasant 

woman 
Carlish,  churlish,  uncivilized 
Carp,  tell  tales,  sing  or  chant 

ballads 


Castle-yate,  castle-gate 

Caul  or  catild,  cold 

Channerin',  fretting 

Chaps,  jaw,  chops 

Cheik,  cheek 

Child  or  childe,  a  youth  of  gentle 
birth 

Christentie,  Christendom 

Claith,  cloth 

Claymore,  large  sword 

Cleedin,  clothing 

Clour,  bump  on  the  head  from  a 
heavy  blow 

Clouted,  heavy  and  patched 

Clouted  cream,  clotted  cream 

Cloutie,  patched,  ragged 

Coft,  bought 

Cold,  could 

Contrair,  contrary,  opposed 

Corbie,  raven 

Cosh,  quiet 

Coud,  could 

Couldna,  could  not 

Couthy,  friendly,  kind,  loving 

Cow-me-doo,  Coo-my-dove,  lov- 
ing name  for  a  dove 

Craig,  neck,  throat 

Craw,  crow 

Crawed,  crowed 

Cima,  come,  came 

Ctmibruk,  cambric 

Cushat,  ring-dove,  wood-pigeon 

Dae,  doe 

Dantonit,  daunted 

Daunton,  daunt,  subdue 

Daw,  dawn 

Dean  or  den,  dell,  narrow  glen 

Death-thraw,  death-struggle 

Dee,  do,  die 

Degree,  rank.  "  Served  him  in 
his  own  degree,"  offered  him 
respect  according  to  his  rank 


GLOSSARY 


377 


Deil,  Devil 

Dinna,  do  not 

Dochter,  daughter 

Doc,  dove 

Dought,  should  be  able  to,  can 

Doun,  down 

Dour    or   doure,    hard,    severe, 

savage 
Dove,  word  of  endearment  for  one 

pure  and  gentle 
Downa,  cannot 
Drap,  drop 
Drapp'd,  dropped 
Dree,  be  able,  stand.  "As  fast  as 

he  might  dree,"  as  fast  as  he 

could,  undergo,  suffer 
Dnimlie,  gloomy 
Duddis,   poor   clothes,    tatters, 

duds 
DtJe,  grief 
Dub,  dark  coloured,  of  a  dull 

brown  colour 
Dime,  done 

Eccho, echo 

Eche, each 

E'e  or  ee,  eye 

Effeir,  pomp,  circumstance,  bear- 
ing, garb,  panoply 

Eident,  unrestingly 

Eildon,  a  high  hill  with  three- 
pointed  summit,  overlooking 
Melrose  town.  Eildon  Tree, 
the  spot  where  Thomas  the 
Rhymer  is  supposed  to  have 
uttered  his  prophecies 

Eiry,  eery,  weird,  dreary,  gloomy, 
fear-inspiring 

Eldem,  old 

EIritch,  elvish 

Elyed,  vanished 

Eneuch,  enough 

Enoo,  enough 


Ere,  ever 

Erie,  carl 

Erlish,  elvish 

Erst,  first,  formerly 

Even  cloth,  smooth  cloth,  with 

nap  well  shorn 
Eve   of    St.   John,   Midsummer 

Day,  June  24 
Eyne,  eyes 

Fa'  or  fa,  fall,  befall 

Faem  or  faeme,  foam 

Fairing,  gift,  present  given  at  a 

fair 
Fallow    deer,    small    European 

deer,  of  a  fallow,  or  pale  yellow 

colour 
Fand,  found 
Fa'se,  false 
Fashes,  troubles 
Faulds,  folds 
Faured, favoured 
Fause,  false 

Feckless,  weak,  feeble,  silly 
Fee,  wealth 
Feircly,  fiercely 

Fell,  sharply,  severely,  keen,  eager 
Fere,  mate,  consort,  companion 
Ferlie,  marvel,  wonder 
Fidge,  fidget 

Flang,  flimg  about,  skipped 
Flatter,  float 
Flee,  flay 
Flude,  flood 
Forbode,  "Over  God's  forbode"; 

God  forbid! 
Forfaulted,  forfeited 
Forgather,  meet 
Forhooyed,  forsook 
Fomenst,  opposite  to 
Fou,  full 
Frae,  from 
Freit,  a  good  or  bad  omen 


378 


GLOSSARY 


Frith,  wood,  enclosed  land 
Fu*  or  fu,  very,  full,  very  much, 
fully 

Gad,  bar 

Gae,  go 

Galliard,  an  old-time  brisk  dance 

Gane,  suffice,  gone 

Gang,  go 

Gar,  make,  cause,  do 

Garr'd,  made,  caused 

Gear,  possessions,  property,  cat- 
tle 

Geek,  mock 

Gerfalcon,  large  falcon  of  the 
Northlands 

Gi'd,  went 

Gie,  give 

Gien,  given 

Gif,  if 

Gillore,  gallore,  in  plenty 

Gimp,  jimp,  slender 

Gin,  if,  suppose,  granted  it  be  so, 
whether 

Glaive,  sword 

Gleg,  spry,  quick 

Gleid,  spark 

Gloamin,  twilight 

Good  b'w'  ye,  good  be  with  ye, 
good-bye,  derived  from  the 
phrase  "God  be  with  you,"  or 
"with  ye" 

Gos-hawk  or  goss-hawk,  large 
hawk 

Goud,  gold 

Gouden,  golden 

Goun,  gown 

Goups,  handfuls 

Goved,  stared 

Gowan,  daisy 

Gowd,  gold 

Gowdn,  golden 

Graith,  make  ready 


Grange,  farmhouse  with  outer 

buildings 
Gratte,  wept,  cried 
Greet,  weep 

Grew  hound,  greyhound,  grey 
Grewis,  greyhoimds 
Groat,   old   English   silver  coin 

worth  fourpence  issued  from 

1351-1662 
Gude,  good 
Gudely,  goodly 
Guid,  good 

Guise,  manner,  behaviour 
Gurly,  grim,  growling,  surly 
Gyant,  giant 

Ha'  or  ha,  hall 

Had,  hold 

Hadna  or  hadnae,  had  not 

Hae,  have 

Haggis,  Scotch  dish  made  of  a 
sheep's  maw  filled  with  minced 
meat,  onions,  and  other  ingre- 
dients mixed  and  cooked  with 
oatmeal 

Hail,  whole 

Half-fou,  two  pecks,  half  a  bushel 

Haly,  holy 

Hame,  home 

Han,  hand 

Hap,  chance,  fortune 

Happed,  covered,  wrapped 

Haud,  hold,  keep 

Hauld,  hold 

Hay,  "  Went  forth  to  view  the 
hay,"  went  to  see  how  the  hay 
was  coming  on 

Heely,  slowly,  gently 

Her  lane,  by  herself 

Heugh,  steep  hill,  glen  with  over- 
hanging sides 

Hie,  haste,  high 

Hindberrye,  wild  raspberry 


GLOSSARY 


379 


Hing,  hang 

Kenned  or  kend,  knew 

Hingers,  hanpers 

Kep,  catch,  stop 

Hirmy  or  hinnie,  honey 

Keppit,  caught 

His  lane,  by  himself 

Kirk,  church 

Holland   or  hollin,  coarse  linen, 

Kittle,  difficult  to  manage,  risky. 

unl)leached  or  dyed  brown 

ticklish 

Holt,  piece  of  woodland,  a  woody 

Knaw,  know 

hil| 

Kynast,  castle  in  Northern  Ger- 

Holy Grail,  the  holy  cup,  uscfl  by 

many 

the  Lord  Christ  at  the  Last 

Kythe,  appear 

Supper,  was  called  in  medieval 

romances,  "  The  Holy  Grail  " 

Laddie,  diminutive  of  lad 

Houf,  haunt 

Laidley,  loathly,  loathsome 

Hoysed,  hoisted 

Laird,  squire,  lord  of  the  manor. 

Hurden,  coarse  linen  or  hempen 

owner  of  lands 

fabric 

Laith,  loath 

Hye  or  hie,  haste 

Lan,  land 

Hynd,  Hynde,  or  Hind,  young. 

Lane,  lone 

courteous,  gracious,  gentle 

Lanely,  lonely 

Hypp,  fruit  of  the  dog-rose 

Lang,  long 

Lap,  sprang,  leaped 

P  or  i,  in 

Lappered,  clotted 

Ilk  or  ilka,  every,  each 

Lat,  let 

Intill,  into,  in 

Laverock, lark 

Its  lane,  by  itself 

I^x,  relief 

Lease,  lease    (of   bucks),   three 

Jaw,  wave 

bucks 

Jawes,  surges 

Leme,  gleam 

Jet,  strut 

Lend,  grant,  give 

Jimp,  slender,  slim 

Lettn,  let 

Jimply,  barely,  scarcely,  hardly. 

Leven,  lawn,  glade,  open  ground 

narrowly 

in  the  forest 

Joup,  petticoat 

Leveret,  hare 

Liffe,  life 

Kaim,  comb 

Lift,  air,  sky 

Kaimin,  combing 

Liften,  lifted 

Kane,  tribute 

Lighters,  horse-blinders  or  blink- 

Kell, a  cap  of  network  for  a 

ers 

woman's  hair 

Liken,  make  like 

Kemb,  comb 

Lish,  lithe,  supple,  agile 

Kerned,  combed 

Lither,  lazy,  idle,  worthless,  wicked 

Ken,  know 

Littand,  staining,  defiling 

Eendna,  did  not  know 

Live-lang,  live-long 

380 


GLOSSARY 


Lo'ed,  loved 

Lood,  loved 

Loof,  palm  of  the  hand 

Loon,  fellow,  rogue 

Loot,  let,  allowed 

Lout,  bend,  bow,  lean 

Lowed,  glowed 

Lown,  calm,  serene,  silent,  quiet 

Lug, ear 

Luve,  love 

Lyart,  grey,  hoary 

Lydder,  lazy,  idle,  loathsome 

Lyon's  moods,  this  possibly 
means  like  the  mood  or  pluck 
of  lions;  authorities  differ  as  to 
readings 

Lyth,  member,  joint 

Mae,  more 

Maik  cfT  maike,  mate 

Mair,  more 

Make,  mate,  coisort 

March  or  Marches,  border-fron- 
tier, the  boundary  between 
England  and  Scotland.  Ward- 
en of  the  March,  governor  of 
the  Scotch  Border 

Marrow,  mate,  wife,  husband 

Martinmas,  mass  or  feast  of  St. 
Martin,  November  11 

Maun,  must 

Maimna,  must  not 

Mavis,  thrush 

May,  maid 

Meet,  scant,  close 

Meikle,  much,  great 

Merl  or  merle,  blackbird 

Merk  or  mark,  about  13s.  4d.  in 
the  English  money  of  the  time 

Mess,  mass 

Mickle,  much,  great 

Middle,  waist 

Midsimmier  Day,  June  24 


Minny  or  minnie,  mother  " 

Mirk,  dark 

Mither,  mother 

Monmouth  Cap,  flat  roimd  cap 
formerly  worn  by  English 
soldiers  and  sailors.  Shake- 
speare mentions  it  in  Henry  V 

Mony  or  monie,  many,  money 

Mote,  may 

Mountain-mere,  mountain-lake 

Muir,  moor 

Na,  no,  not 
Nae,  no 

Naething,  nothmg 
Nane,  none 
Nappy,  heady,  strong 
Neer,  never,  ne'er 
Neest,  nearest,  next 
Neir,  never,  ne'er 
Neist,  next 
Nicht,  night 
Nowt,  neat  cattle 
Nurice  or  nourice,  nurse 

O'  or  o,  of 

O'erword,  refrain,  call,  cry 

Ony,  any 

Ower,  over 

Owre,  before,  over 

Palfray,  small  saddle-horse   for 

ladies,  palfrey 
Pall,  cloak,  mantle 
Palmer,  Pilgrim  returned  from 

Holy  Land  bearing,  as  a  badge, 

a  branch  of  palm 
Paughty,  haughty 
Philabeg,  highland  kilt 
Pibroch,  a  Highland   dirge   or 

martial   air,   a  kind   of  wild, 

irregular  music,  performed  on 

the  bagpipe 


GLOSSARY 


381 


Pickle,  choice 

Pin,  an  implement  for  raising  the 

latch  of  a  door,  sec  tirled 
Pine,  suffering,  pain 
Plait,  fold,  plate 
Plate-jack,  coat-armour 
Pock-puddings,  bag-puddings 
Prie,  attain 
Prieven,  attained 
Prin,  pin 
P*u'  or  pu,  pull 
Pu'd,  pulled 
Putten,  put 

Quarry,  slaughtered  game 
Quean,    saucy    girl    or    young 
woman 

Rad,  afraid 

Rade,  rode 

Rae,  roe 

Raike,  range 

Rail,  woman's  jacket 

Ravin,  violent 

Raw,  row 

Ray,  array 

Reavers,  robbers 

Reaving,  thieving,  robbing 

Rede,  counsel 

Reek,  smoke 

Reifed,  stolen,  plundered 

Reifery,  robbery,  plundering 

Rife,  abounding 

Rins,  runs 

Rock,  distaff  used  in  spinning 

Rode  or  Rood,  Holy  Cross,  cruci- 
fix, sec  also  Black  Rood  of 
Melrose 

Roul,  roll 

Roun'  or  roim,  round,  around 
about 

Rowan  Tree,  mountain  ash, 
which  is  also  called  the  Fairies' 


tree  because  Witches  and  Evil 
Sjjirits  are  said  to  fear  it 

Rowed,  rolled,  wound 

Rowt,  roar 

St.  John's  Eve,  Midsummer 
Day,  June  H 

Sae, so 

Saft,  soft,  softly 

Saikless,  innocent 

Sained,  crossed,  blessed,  hallowed 

Sair,  sore,  painful,  very  much 

Sail,  shall 

Satten,  satin 

Saul,  soul 

Saut,  salt 

Sax,  six 

Scallop-shell,  a  small  fluted 
shell.  In  the  middle  ages.  Pil- 
grims used  to  wear  scallop- 
shells  as  badges  of  their  pil- 
grimage 

Scaur,  steep  bank  overhanging  a 
river,  a  cliff 

Scorke,  struck 

Scot-free,  the  word  "  scot " 
means  payment,  fine,  reckon- 
ing, tax.  Scot-free  means  free 
from  payment;  also,  without 
harm,  unhurt,  safe 

Screen,  plaid,  cloak,  large  scarf 
thrown  over  the  head 

Scrip,  small  bag.  Pilgrim's  pouch 

Sea-maw,  gull,  sea  mew 

Sen,  sent 

Sets  with,  suits 

Seymar,  loose  robe 

Share  of  Truth,  ploughshare  of 
Truth  —  used  as  figurative  lan- 
guage 

Shathmont,  measure  from  top  of 
extended  thumb  to  the  ex- 
tremity of  palm  —  sL\  inches 


382 


GLOSSARY 


Shaw,  thicket,  copse 

Sheave,  slice . 

Sheen,  bright,  shining 

Sheugh,  trench,  ditch,  furrow 

Shoon,  shoes 

Shot-window,  projecting  window 
in  the  staircase  of  old  Scotch 
wooden  house 

Sic,  such 

Sichin,  sighing 

Sicken,  such 

Siller,  silver 

Simmer,  summer 

Sin,  since 

Sin,  "  Thankless  sins  the  gifts  he 
gets,"  probably  means  to  hold 
them  in  slight  esteem.  (Foot- 
note in  Scott) 

Skaith,  harm,  an  injury 

Skald,  ancient  Scandinavian  poet 
or  bard 

Skaw,  promontory  or  low  cape 

Skeely,  skilful 

Skelping,  moving  rapidly 

Skoal,  hail! 

Sleeks,  makes  smooth 

Slogan,  war-cry  of  the  Scottish 
Highlanders 

Sma  or  sma',  smaD 

Snaw,  snow 

Snell,  sharp,  keen,  shrill,  bitter 

Snickersnee,  sailor's  sheath-knife 
or  bowie  knife 

Snood,  hair-band 

Snoove,  go  smoothly  and  con- 
stantly 

Solan,  gannet,  solan-goose 

Solempne,  solemn 

Sommer,  summer 

Sonsy  or  Sonsie,  plump 

Soming,  spunging,  obtruding 

Soudron  or  Southron,  southern, 
the  English 


Spak,  spake,  spoke 

Spankie,  sprightly,  friskly,  smart 

Speer,  ask 

Sperthe,  battle-axe 

Spier,  spear 

Sta,  stole 

Stane,  stone 

Stead,  dwelling-place 

Steek,  stitch 

Step  minnie,  stepmother 

Stem-light,  starlight 

Stour  or  stoure,  dust,  skirmish, 

struggle,  battle 
Stown,  stolen 
Strack,  struck 
Stran,  strand 
Strang,  strong 
Strath,  valley  thro'  which  a  river 


runs 


Stron,  the  end  of  a  ridge  of  hills 

Stude,  stood 

Sucket,  sugar-plum 

Suld,  should 

Sune,  soon 

Swa'd,  swelled 

Syke,  marsh 

Syle,  soil 

Sjme,  then,  afterward,  since 

Tae, toe 

Ta'en  or  taen,  taken 
Taffetie,  taffeta 
Taiglit,  tarried 
Taiken,  token 
Tak,  take 
Tald,  told 

Tale,  number,  count 
Tane,  taken 
Tauld,  told 
Temd,  tithe 

Tent,  take  care  of,  watch,  guard 
Tent,  Spanish  wine  of  a  deep  red 
colour 


GLOSSARY 


383 


Termagant,  a  pagan  deity,  whom 
the  Crusaders  said  was  wor- 
shipped by  the  Mohammedans 

Tett,  lock  of  hair  or  of  a  mane 

Thae,  theses  those 

Then, than 

Thie,  thigh 

Thimber,  heavy,  massive 

Thir,  those,  these 

Thysell,  thyself 

Tm,to 

Tinkler,  tinker 

Tint,  lost 

Tirled  or  tirld,  twist  or  rattle. 

"  Tirld  at  the  pin,"  see  Pin 
Tod,  fox 
Toom,  empty 
Touchstone,  a  kind  of  compact 

stone  used  to  test  gold  and  sil  ver 
Toxin,  hamlet,  farmhouse 
Trailed,  dragged 
Tree,  wood,  made  of  wood 
Trow,  trust,  believe,  think 
Tryst,  appointed  place  of  meeting, 

also  appointment  to  meet 
Ttortle-doo,  turtle-dove 
Twa,  two 
Twae,  two 
Twin'd,  deprived,  parted 

Ugsome,    exciting    disgust,    ab- 
horrent 
Ummeled,  unmixed,  pure 
Upgive,  avow,  own  up 
Upo,  on,  to,  with,  at,  in 

Vair,  squirrel-fur 

Vaunt-brace,  armour  for  the  body 

Verra,  very 

Wa'  or  wa,  wall 
Wad,  would 
Wae,  woe 


Waik,  glade 

Wained,  carried,  removed 

Waith,  wandering,  roaming, 
straying 

Wall-wightmen,  picked,  strong 
men 

Waly,  exclamation  of  admiration 

Wan,  won 

Wap,  wrap,  stuff 

War'd,  expended,  used 

Warden,  keeper,  guardian. 
Warden  of  the  March,  gov- 
ernor of  the  Scotch  Border 

Warden  Pies,  pies  maile  of 
warden  pears  —  large  pears 

Warld,  world 

Warlock,  sorcerer,  wizard 

Warse,  worse 

Warst,  w  orst 

Wasna,  was  not 

Wassail-bout,  drinking  revel, 
carouse 

Wat,  wet 

Wauking,  watch,  walk 

Weel,  well 

Weet,  wet 

Weir,  to  collect  and  drive  cattle 

Weird,  Destiny,  Fate,  Fortune 

Well-kent,  well-known 

Wene,  recess 

Wer-wolf,  person  transformed 
into  a  wolf 

Westlin,  Western 

Wha,  who 

Whare,  where 

Whaten,  what  sort,  what  kind 

Whidderan,  whizzing 

Whin-bushes,  furze,  gorse 

Wi'  or  wi,  with 

Win,  wind 

Win  in,  get  in 

Winna,  will  not 

Wis,  know 


384 


GLOSSARY 


Withouten  or  withoutten,  without 

Wodensday,  Wednesday,  de- 
rived from  the  name  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  god,  Woden; 
which  name  meant  "  the  furi- 
ous "  or  "  the  mighty  warrior  " 

Wold,  would 

Wold,  open  tract  of  coimtry 

Woned,  dwelt 

Wot,  know 

Wud,  would 

Y  or  I,  a  prefix  to  many  Middle 
English     words,     often     used 


(specially  with  past-participles) 
to  intensify  their  meanings 

Yallow,  yellow 

Yate,  gate 

Y-built,  see  above  Y  or  I 

Yer  sel,  yourself 

Yett,  gate 

Yont,  beyond 

Yorlin,  yellow-hammer 

Yoursell,  yourself 

Yowlit,  yowled,  hoM'led,  yelped 

Y-wis,  i-wis,  certainly,  surely, 
truly,  to  wit,  indeed 

Y-wrought,  see  above  Y  or  I 


'    SUBJECT  INDEX 

Affection:  Child  of  Elle,  244;  Cochrane's  Bonny  Grizzy, 70;  Fairy 

Tempter,  80. 
Alfred  the  Great:  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd,  176. 

Ballads,    Educational    Use:     Foreword,    vii;    Suggestions    for 

Teachers,  363. 
Ball.\ds,   Literary    Comment  on:   Addison,  363;    Spenser,    xi; 

Stedman,  363;  Sydney,  xii. 
Ballads,  Programme  for  Teaching:  Suggestions  for  Teachers, 

363.   See  also  Dram.\tics. 
Beltan;  see  May  Day. 
Bird  Friends:  Earl  of  Mar's  Daughter,  115;  Gay  Goss-Hawk,  218; 

Singing  Leaves,  131. 
Border  Ballads:  Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed  Meg,  32;  Belted  Will, 

47;  Chevy-Chase,  21;  Galloway  Raid,  20. 
Brothers  and  Sisters:  Fairy  Tempter,  80;  Laidley  Worm,  148; 

Proud  Lady  Margaret,  62;  Valentine  and  Ursine,  314i 
Bruce,  Robert,  King  of  Scotland:  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  333. 

Cakes,  Burning  of:  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd,  176. 

Chevy-Chase:  Chevy-Chase,  21. 

Chivalry:  Blancheflour  and  Jellyflorice,  209;  Child  of  Elle,  244; 
Sir  Galahad,  348;  Valentine  and  Ursine,  314. 

Christ:  Barclay  of  Ury,  341;  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  333;  Pilgrimage, 
351;  Royal  Court,  353;  Sir  Galahad,  348. 

Christ-Child:  Three  Kings,  357. 

Christmas:  Sir  Galahad,  348;  Three  Kings,  357. 

Clorinda:  Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda,  297. 

Constancy:  Bonny  Baby  Livingston,  224;  Daemon  Lover,  7;  "Earl 
March  Looked  on  his  Dying  Child,"  203;  Fair  Anny  of  Roch- 
royal,  191;  Gay  Goss-Hawk,  218;  Hynd  Horn,  231;  Lady  Clare, 
59;  Lord  Lovel,  2(>i;  Mermaid,  10;  Sweet  William's  Ghost,  276; 
Young  Bcichan  and  Susie  Pye,  237. 

Cophetua:  Beggar-Maid,  214. 

Corrievreckan:  Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan,  97. 

CouR^vGE  AND  Heroism:  Alice  Brand,  81 ;  Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed 
Meg,  32;  Chevy-Chase,  21;  Cochrane's  Bonny  Grizzy,  70;  Famous 
Flower  of  Serving-Men,  65;  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  333;  Kemp 
Owyne,  122;  Laidley  Worm,  148;  Pilgrim,  332;  Robin  Hood  and 


386  SUBJECT  INDEX 

Little  John,  291 ;  Sir  Patrick  Spens,  3;  Song  of  the  Outlaw  Murray, 
301.   See  also  Maids  and  Lassies,  Brave  and  Thue. 
Cruelty;  see  Retribution. 

Dee:  Sands  of  Dee,  190. 

Democratic  Ballads:  Frolicksome  Duke,  169;  King  Alfred  and  the 
Shepherd,  176;  King  James  the  First  and  the  Tinkler,  173. 

Dramatics,  Ballads  Suitable  for:  Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed 
Meg,  32;  Ballad  of  the  Oysterman,  164;  Beggar-Maid,  214; 
Cochrane's  Bonny  Grizzy,  70;  Daemon  Lover,  7;  Earl  Haldan's 
Daughter,  58;  "Earl  March  Looked  on  his  Dying  Child,"  203; 
Erl-King,  86;  Gay  Goss-Hawk,  218;  Glenara.  212;  Greeting  of 
Kynast,  74;  Kemp  Owyne,  122;  King  James  the  First  and  the 
Tinkler,  173;  Lady  of  Shalott,  124;  Laidley  Worm,  148;  Noble 
Riddle,  208;  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John,  291;  Stormy  Winds  Do 
Blow,  2;  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  93;  Tragic  Story,  158;  Young 
Tamlane,  255.   Many  other  ballads  in  this  book  may  be  dramatized. 

Dwarfs:  Alice  Brand,  81;  Belted  Will,  47. 

Edenhall:  Luck  of  Edenhall,  135. 

Eildon  Tree:   Eve  of  St.  John,  279;  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  93. 

See  also  Glossary  under  Eildon  Tree,  p.  377. 
Elves;  see  Fairies. 
Enchantment  and  Mystery:  Alice  Brand,  81;  Earl  of  Mar's 

Daughter,  115;  Fairy  Thorn,  87;  KempOwyne,  122;  La  Belle  Dame 

sans  Merci,  91;  Lady  of  Shalott,  124;  Laidley  Worm,  148;  Luck 

of  Edenhall,  135;  May  of  the  Moril  Glen,  138;  Mermaid,  10.  See 

also  Fairies  and  Fairyland. 
Endurance:  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd,  176;  Robin  Hood  and 

Little  John,  291. 
Erl-King:  Erl-King,  86. 
Ettrick:  Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed  Meg,  32;  Song  of  the  Outlaw 

Murray,  301. 
Eve  of  St.  John;  see  Midsummer  Day  and  St.  John's  Day. 

Fairies  and  Fairyland:  Alice  Brand,  81;  Erl-King,  86;  Fairy 
Tempter,  80;  Fairy  Thorn,  87;  Kilmeny,  101;  La  Belle  Dame  sans 
Merci,  91 ;  May  of  the  Moril  Glen,  138;  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  93; 
Young  Tamlane,  255. 

Pair  Play:  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd,  176;  Robin  Hood  and 
Little  John,  291. 

Farm  Customs:  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd,  176. 

Fathers:  Child  of  Elle,  244;  Cochrane's  Bonny  Grizzy,  70;  Erl- 
King,  86. 


SUBJECT  INDEX  387 

Fohest;  see  Greenwood. 
Friendship:  lloyal  Court,  353. 

Ghost-story  Ballads;  see  Halloween  and  Ghost  Stories. 

Giants:  Valentine  and  Ursine,  314. 

Goss-Hawks:  Gay  Goss-Hawk,  )dl8. 

Greenwood:  Alice  Brand,  81;  Birth  o'  Robin  Ilood,  290;  Fairy 

Tempter,  80;   Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda,  £97;  Robin  Hood  and 
•    Little  John,  £91;  Royal  Court,  353;  Song  of  the  Outlaw  Murray, 

301;  Valentine  and  Ursine,  314. 

Hallowe'en  and  Ghost  Stories:  Dremon  Lover,  7;  Eve  of  St. 
John,  279;  Proud  Lady  Margaret,  62;  Sir  Roland,  2G5;  Skeleton 
in  Armour,  270;  Sweet  WiUiara's  Ghost,  270;  Wife  of  Usher's 
Well,  263;  Young  Tamlane,  255. 

Haughtiness;  see  Pride  and  Vanity. 

Hawthorn:  Fairy  Thorn,  87. 

Heroism;  see  Courage  and  Heroism. 

Holy  Grail:  Sir  Galahad,  348. 

Humour:  Ballad  of  the  Oysterman,  164;  Brian  o'Linn,  160;  Cinder- 
King,  167;  Dicky  of  Ballyman,  162;  Frolicksome  Duke,  169 
Greeting  of  Kynast,  74;  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd,  176 
King  James  the  First  and  the  Tinkler,  173;  Little  Billee.  159 
May  of  the  Moril  Glen,  138;  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John,  291 
Tragic  Story,  158. 

Hunting:  Chevy-Chase,  21;  Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda,  297. 

James  the  First,  King  of  England:  King  James  the  First  and  the 
Tinkler,  173. 

Kelpies:  Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan,  97. 

Knights  and  Ladies:  Alice  Brand,  81;  Earl  Haldan's  Daughter,  58; 
Famous  Flower  of  Serving- Men,  65 ;  Gay  Goss-Hawk,  218;  Greet- 
ing of  Kynast,  74;  Kemp  Ch\yne,  122;  Lady  Clare,  59;  Laidley 
Worm,  148;  Lochinvar,  215;  Lord  Lovel,  204;  Proud  Lady  Mar- 
garet, 62. 

Kunigunde:  Greeting  of  Kynast,  74. 

Kynast:  Greeting  of  Kynast,  74. 

Labour  Day;  see  Democr-\tic  Ballads. 

Laidley  Worms:  Kemp  Chvyne,  122;  Laidley  Worm,  148. 

Little  John:  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John,  291. 

Magi  :  Three  Kings,  357. 

Maids  and  L.\ssies,  Bkave  and  True:  Ballad  of  Meiklc-Mouthed 


S88  SUBJECT  INDEX 

Meg,  32;  Blancheflour  and  Jellyflorice,  209;  Bonny  Baby  Living- 
ston, 224;  Cochrane's  Bonny  Grizzy,  70;  Lady  Clare,  59;  Robin 
Hood  and  Clorinda,  297;  Sweet  William's  Ghost,  276;  Young 
Beichan  and  Susie  Pye,  237;  Young  Tamlane,  255. 

Martinmas  (November  11):  Wife  of  Usher's  Well,  263. 

May  Day  or  Beltan  (May  1):  Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan,  97;  The 
Spell,  254. 

Mermaids:  Mermaid,  10;  Stormy  Winds  Do  Blow,  2. 

Midsummer  Day  and  St.  John's  Day  (June  24) :  Eve  of  St.  John, 
279;  The  Spell,  254. 

Moors:  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  333;  Young  Beichan  and  Susie  Pye, 
237. 

Moral  Courage:  Barclay  of  Ury,  341;  Lady  Clare,  59;  True  Valour, 
355. 

Mothers:  Lady  Clare,  59;  Valentine  and  Ursine,  314;  Wife  of 
Usher's  Well,  263. 

Mountain  Ash;  see  Rowan  Tree. 

Mystery  Ballads;  see  Enchantment  and  Mystery;  also  Hal- 
loween AND  Ghost  Stories. 

Outlaws:  Birth  o'  Robin  Hood,  290;  Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda, 
297;  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John,  291;  Song  of  the  Outlaw 
Murray,  301. 

Palmers;  see  Pilgrims  and  Pilgrimage. 

Peace:  Peace,  356;  Pilgrimage,  351;  Royal  Court,  353. 

Pilgrims  and  Pilgrimage:  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  333;  Pilgrim,  332; 
Pilgrimage,  351;  Sir  Galahad,  348;  True  Valoiu-,  355. 

Pride  and  Vanity:  Earl  Haldan's  Daughter,  58;  Greeting  of 
Kynast,  74;  Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan,  97;  Proud  Lady  Marga- 
ret, 62. 

Punishment;  see  Retribution. 

Purity:  Kilmeny,  101;  Sir  Galahad,  348. 

Quakers:  Barclay  of  Ury,  341. 

Raids  and  Reaving;  see  Border  Ballads. 

Religious  Ballads  and  Verses:  Barclay  of  Ury,  341;  Heart  of  the 

Bruce,  333;  Pilgrim,  332;  Pilgrimage,  351;    Royal  Court,  353; 

Sir  Galahad,  348. 
Retribution:  Belted  Will,  47;  Cruelty  of  Barbara  Allen,  201; 

Daemon  Lover,  7;  Earl  Haldan's  Daughter,  58;  Eve  of  St.  John, 

279;  Greeting  of  Kynast,  74;  Kelpie  of  Corrievreckan,  97;  Laidley 

Worm,  148;  Sir  Roland,  265. 


SUBJECT  INDEX  389 

RnniN  Hood:  Birth  o'  Robin  Hoorl,  290;  Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda, 
297;  Robin  Hooc^  and  Little  John,  291. 

Romance  and  Loveks:  Ahec  Brand,  81;  Ballad  of  Meiklc-Moulhed 
Meg,  32;  Blancheflour  and  Jellyflorice,  209;  Bonny  Baby  Living- 
ston, 224;  Child  of  P^lle,  Hi;  Cruel  Sister,  190;  "Earl  March 
Looked  on  his  Dying  Child,"  203;  Earl  of  Mar's  Daughter,  115; 
Famous  Flower  of  Serving-Men,  Co;  Hynd  Horn,  231;  Kelpie  of 
Corrievreckan,  97;  Lady  Clare,  59;  Lochinvar,  215;  Lord  Lovel, 
204;  May  of  the  Moril  Glen,  138;  Noble  Riddle,  208;  Robin  Hood 
and  Clorinda,  297;  Singing  Leaves,  131;  Skeleton  in  Armour,  270; 
Sweet  William's  Ghost,  276;  Young  Beichan  and  Susie  Pye,  237; 
Young  Tanilane,  255. 

Row.vN  Tree  oh  Mountain  Ash:  Fairy  Thorn,  87;  Laidley  Worm, 
148. 

Sailors:  Dremon  Lover,  7;  Little  Billec,  159;  Sir  Patrick  Spens,  8; 
Stormy  Winds  Do  Blow,  2. 

St.  John's  Eve;  see  Midsummer  Dat  and  St.  John's  Day. 

Salem:  Peace,  356. 

Sea  Ballads:  Dsemon  Lover,  7;  Earl  Haldan's  Daughter,  58;  Fair 
Anny  of  Roch-royal,  191;  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  333;.  Kelpie  of 
Corrie\Teckan,  97;  Kemp  Qwyne,  122;  Laidley  Worm,  148;  Little 
Billee,  159;  Mermaid,  10;  Sands  of  Dee,  190;  Sir  Patrick  Spens,  3; 
Stormy  Winds  Do  Blow,  2. 

Shepherds:  King  Alfred  and  the  Shepherd,  176. 

Sherwood  Forest:  Robin  Hood  and  Clorinda,  297. 

Spindleston-Heughs:  Laidley  Worm,  148. 

Tamlane:  Young  Tamlane,  255. 

Tinkers:  Frolicksome  Duke,  169;  King  James  the  First  and  the 

Tinkler,  173. 
Three  Wise  Men:  Three  Kings,  357. 
True  Thomas:  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  93. 

Valentine  Day:  Valentine  and  Ursine,  314.  See  also  Romance  and 

Lovers. 
Valour;  see  Courage  and  Heroism. 
Vanity;  see  Pride  and  Vanity. 
Vikings:  Skeleton  in  ^Vrmour,  270. 

Witches:  Laidley  Worm,  148. 

Womanliness:  Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed  Meg,  32;  Beggar-Maid, 
214;  Child  of  Elle,  244;  Kilmeny,  101;  Singing  Leaves,  131. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

A  fair  girl  was  sitting  in  the  greenwood  shade,  80 

A  Man  there  came,  whence  none  could  tell,  347 

Ah,  what  can  ail  thee,  wretched  wight,  91 

And  mony  ane  sings  o'  grass,  o'  grass,  290 

And  now,  to  be  brief,  let 's  pass  over  the  rest,  173 

As  I  was  walking  all  alane,  1 14 

At  eve  last  Midsummer,  no  sleep  I  sought,  254 

Bonny  KUmeny  gaed  up  the  glen,  101 
Brian  O'Linn  was  a  gentleman  born,  160 

Earl  March  looked  on  his  dying  child,  203 
Ettrick  Forest  is  a  fair  forest,  301 

Fair  Margret  was  a  young  ladye,  62 

"Get  up,  our  Anna  dear,  from  the  weary  spinning-wheel,"  87 
Give  me  my  Scallop-shell  of  Quiet,  351 
God  prosper  long  our  noble  King,  21 

He  mounted  his  steed  of  the  water  clear,  97 
Her  arms  across  her  breast  she  laid,  214 
Her  mother  died  when  she  was  young,  122 

"If  thou  canst  answer  me  questions  three,"  208 

In  elder  time  there  was  of  yore,  176 

In  London  was  young  Beichan  born,  237 

In  Royal  Courts  my  Soul  hath  slept,  353 

In  Scarlet  Town,  where  I  was  bound,  201 

It  was  a  tall  young  Oysterman,  164 

It  was  Earl  Haldan's  daughter,  58 

It  was  intill  a  pleasant  time,  115 

It  was  the  time  when  lilies  blow,  59 

I  will  tell  you  of  ane  wondrous  tale,  138 

Listen,  now,  both  great  and  simple,  70 
Lord  Lovel  he  stood  at  his  castle  gate,  204 

Merry  it  is  in  the  good  greenwood,  81 

My  good  blade  carves  the  casques  of  men,  348 

Near  the  King's  Court  was  a  young  child  born,  231 

Now,  as  fame  does  report,  a  young  Duke  keeps  a  Court,  169 

O  bonny  Baby  Livingston,  224 
"01  forbid  ye,  maidens  a',"  255 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES  391 

"O  Marj',  go  and  call  the  cattle  home,"  190 

"O  waly,  waly,  my  gdy  Koss-liawk,"  ilS 

"O  wha  will  shoe  my  fu  fair  foot,"  191 

"O  where  have  you  Ix;en,  my  long,  long  love,"  7 

Of  Edenhall,  the  youthful  Lord,  135 

Oh!  heard  ye  yon  pil)ro<h  sound  sad  in  the  gale,  Hi 

Oh!  who  rides  by  night  thro'  the  woodland  so  wild,  86 

Oh!  young  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  West,  £15 

On  either  side  the  river  lie,  Hi 

On  Jura's  heath  how  s^veetly  swell,  10 

On  New  Year's  Day,  as  I  heard  say,  1C2 

On  yonder  hill  a  castle  stands,  24-4 

One  Friday  morn  when  we  set  sail,  2 

She  said,  "This  narrow  chamber  is  not  for  me  the  place,"  74 

"Speak!  speak!  thou  fearful  guest!"  270 

Sweet  Peace,  where  dost  thou  dwell,  I  humbly  crave,  356 

The  Baron  of  Smaylho'me  rose  with  day,  279 
The  Baron  of  Thirlwall  came  from  the  wars,  47 
The  good  Lord  Douglas  paced  the  deck,  333 
The  King  is  gone  from  Bambrough  Castle,  148 
The  king  sits  in  Dunfermline  town,  3 
The  moonbeam  glints  on  tower  and  hill,  32 
The  reavers  of  Eskdale  were  mounted  for  weir,  20 
There  came  a  ghost  to  Margret's  door,  276 
There  lived  a  sage  in  days  of  j'ore,  158 
There  lived  a  wife  at  Usher's  Well,  2G3 
There  was  a  maid,  richly  arrayd,  209 
There  were  three  sailors  of  Bristol  city,  159 
There  were  two  sisters  sat  in  a  bour,  196 
Three  Kings  came  riding  from  far  away,  357 
True  Thomas  lay  on  Huntlie  bank,  93 

Up  the  streets  of  Aberdeen,  341 

Whan  he  cam  to  his  ain  luve's  bouir,  265 

WTiat  Danger  is  the  Pilgrim  in,  332 

"\Miat  fairings  will  ye  that  I  bring,"  131 

\Maen  Flora  'gins  to  deck  the  fields,  314 

When  Robin  Hood  came  into  merry  Sherwood,  297 

When  Robin  Hood  was  about  twenty  years  old,  291 

WTio  is  it  that  sits  in  the  kitchen  and  weeps,  107 

Who  would  true  Valour  see,  855 

You  beaut  ious  ladies,  great  and  small,  65 


INDEX  OF  TITLES  AND  AUTHORS 


With  references  from  titles  of  other  ballad-versions 


Alice  Brand,  81 
Allingham,  Touchstone,  347 
Annie    Livingston,    see    Bonny 

Baby  Livingston,  224 
Annie  of  Loch  Royan,  see  Fair 

Anny  of  Roch-royal,  191 
Aytoun,  Heart  of  the  Bruce,  333 

Ballad  of  Meikle-Mouthed  Meg, 

32 
Ballad  of  the  Oysterman,  164 
Barbara  Allen's  Cruelty,  201 
Barclay  of  Ury,  341 
Beggar-Maid,  214 
Beichan  and  Susie  Pye,  see  Young 

Beichan  and  Susie  Pye,  237 
Belle  Dame  sans  Merci,  see  La 

Belle  Dame  sans  Merci,  91 
Belted  Will,  47 

Binnorie,  see  The  Cruel  Sister,196 
Birth  o'  Robin  Hood,  290 
Blancheflour  and  Jellyflorice,  209 
Bonnie  Milldams  o'  Binnorie,  see 

The  Cruel  Sister,  196 
Bonny  Baby  Livingston,  224 
Bonny  Barbara  Allan,  see  Cruelty 

of  Barbara  Allen,  201 
Bonny  Kilmeny,  see  Kilmeny.lOl 
Brian  O'Linn,  160 
Bunyan,  The  Pilgrim,  332 
Bunyan,  True  Valour,  355 

Campbell,  Glenara,  212 
Campbell,  Song,  —  Earl   March 

Looked  on  his  Dying  Child, 

203 


Chevy-Chase,  see  More  Modern 
Ballad  of  Chevy-Chase,  21 

Child  of  EUe,  244 

Cinder  King.  167 

Cochrane's  Bonny  Grizzy,  70 

Cruel  Sister,  196 

Cruelty  of  Barbara  Allen,  see  Bar- 
bara Allen's  Cruelty,  201 

Daemon  Lover,  7 
Dicky  of  Ballyman,  162 

Earl  Haldan's  Daughter,  58 
Earl  March  Looked  on  his  Dying 

ChUd,  203 
Earl  of  Mar's  Daughter,  115 
Ercildoune,      Thomas     of,      see 

Thomas  the  Rhymer,  93 
Erl-King,  86 

Ettrick  Shepherd,  Kilmeny,  101 
Ettrick  Shepherd,   May  of  the 

Moril  Glen,  138 
Eve  of  St.  John,  279 

Fair  Anny  of  Roch-royal  (same 
as  Annie  of  Loch  Royan),  191 

Fairy  Tempter,  80 

Fairy  Thorn,  87 

Famous  Flower  of  Serving-Men, 
65 

Ferguson,  Fairy  Thorn,  87 

Frolicksome  Duke;  or.  The  Tin- 
ker's Good  Fortune,  169 

Galloway  Raid,  20 
Gay,  The  SpeU,  254 


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